


ava’s how-to guide to avoiding office romance (or: how to ruin a dream)

by jemmasimns



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, u know me out here with another slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2019-10-09 19:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmasimns/pseuds/jemmasimns
Summary: This had to be a mistake. She must have edited the email, somehow. Siri must have heard her (angrily) mumble something under her breath. Must have learned how to use find-and-replace somehow. Oh, maybe it was a prank? Maybe her friends had thought this would be just hilarious. Really, there was just no way. Ava’s heart was beating a thousand beats a minute, and she held her phone in a death grip.“You have been paired with Sara Lance of the University of Maryland (crazy, same school! Do you guys know each other?) We are so excited to talk to you guys all about your project for the summer. Excited to finally meet you this Monday, Ava!”This couldn't be happening, but it was.OR: the avalance college intern au you never knew you needed





	1. the golden city

**Author's Note:**

> wow yeah i did not expect to be starting another multi-chapter fic after i JUST finished my last one yesterday, but i love these idiots so much and this idea had been stirring around my head for months. so. yeah! enjoy.

Santa Monica Pier was a feast for the eyes―the intersection of consumerism and natural beauty, sky-high ferris wheels towering over glimmering waves. Like everything else in Los Angeles, its personality was overwhelming, neon at night as well as in the daytime. The shouts of children were unrelenting, as was the near-endless cycle of advertisements that travelled loosely over the soundwaves. A complete meal for the senses.

At all this―Ava frowned. It was no surprise that everyone wore sunglasses and headphones, shielding themselves from the cacophony of sensations that attacked from every direction. To be alive in LA was to be a perpetual consumer. She’d been here only a week, and Ava already wanted nothing more than to tune it all out.

Luckily for her, she had her apartment: a small, two-story building that she shared with five other girls. They each had their own room, save the two girls―Zari and Amaya―who had decided for whatever reason to share about 20 square feet of space for the summer. Had she been given that option, she would have swiftly denied it. Her room was her only safe haven. It was the only place where she could, well―

Code.

Ava’s life was her programming. Yes, she knew that sounded nerdy. She didn’t mind. She had been the only girl in a class of forty-four boys in her Intro to Computing class at Fresno Community College. The place smelled like eggs, and so did the boys, but she fell in love in that classroom. And―no, before you ask―not with any of her classmates. She fell in love with the purity of problem solving, with the silicone keyboards, with the inflection in her professor’s voice when she spoke about recursive loops. She fell in love with a subject, not a person.

She might have had a crush on her teacher. That was aside the point, though, and definitely not public information. 

Naturally, then, this passion had guided her to the only sensible conclusion: she had to go to college and study―no, sorry, this was Ava Sharpe we’re talking about― _ master _ Computer Science. Then she would get chosen for a prestigious internship, then should we would crawl up the company ladder, and then finally she would become CEO of the Corporate United States of America―ehem, she meant Silicon Valley. 

When it came time to apply to college, California was out of the question. She had wanted nothing more than to get out of Fresno the minute she graduated, so she applied as far away as her imagination ventured: Maryland. She had known that returning to Cali would be an inevitability, anyway, so she thought it better to witness life outside the Golden State’s borders for four years.  

Gazing outside her apartment window and into the humdrum of suburban Santa Monica, Ava felt her dream closer than ever. Her life had carried on just as she had meticulously planned, and now in her second year at the University of Maryland, she had come one step closer to actualizing her plans; she had landed her dream internship: software engineering at Aberration Technologies.  _ The _ Aberration Technologies: the home of the tech that was revolutionizing workflow. Amazon had asked Aberration analysts how to run its new shipment headquarters, and consequently increased their sales by 205%. Aberration’s algorithms were at the cutting edge of what technology could do in 2019, and Ava practically salivated at the idea of getting her hands on some of that code.

And she was going to. Because, well, she had made it. She was  _ here _ .   

But there was just one variable she had yet to pin down. 

Aberration was infamous for their partner system. Interns filled out a survey in the months before arrival that detailed exactly what they wanted to get out of the internship. Some human element (think: overly enthused HR desk lady, frilly pink dress and red boots) would then sort through these answers and play matchmaker, changing Ava’s destiny with a stroke of her pen. 

Everyone knew that your partner could make or break your experience at Aberration. Good partner? You could bet yourself a full-time job afterwards. Bad partner? Best case scenario, and your project reaches only half of its potential. A half-ass project meant a half-ass job offer, or no job offer at all. Ava refused either of these outcomes. She  _ had _ to have a good partner. She had filled out her survey with this exact necessity in mind. Her partner had to be her, but a version of her who took orders. Smart and loyal. Ava’s mind wandered, cheeks flushing with frustration as she remembered her  _ last _ partner. 

It was UMD’s annual hackathon―the perfect place for her to showcase her talents and finally add the cherry on top of her portfolio. Aberration was tabling there, too, and she needed to make a good impression. Winning first place? That would be a good place to start.  

But then there was her  _ partner _ , if she could even call her that. Sara  _ fucking _ Lance.

Sara Lance was an all-star. She basically ran UMD’s club soccer team, was a double major (management  _ and _ computer science, show-off), as well as attending school for around zero dollars due to merit scholarships. Not to mention that she was a huge womanizer.

Ava felt her neck heat up, her ears tingling uncomfortably. Not that  _ womanizing _ was very impressive. Anybody could sleep with a bunch of women.

Ava was sure she could, too, if she wasn’t so insanely busy. Also, if she was like, gay.

(Okay, this wasn’t middle school―she was definitely gay. But it all seemed a bit much to think it outloud.)  

But that was besides the point. The point was that Sara Lance had cost her that first prize. She was too knuckleheaded to stay on task, preferring to flirt with the competition while Ava slaved over the code by herself. Ava stayed up eighteen hours straight pouring her heart out onto a sixteen-inch laptop screen, and Sara had taken seven consecutive naps―Ava referred to this as  _ sleeping _ . Sara had insisted that staying up for so long was counterproductive and stupid. Ava had replied that  _ she _ was stupid, that she had contributed nothing, and it was probably better if she just left. 

So Sara did, shoving her chair into Ava’s and storming away. And Ava blamed her for it.

Ava took a sharp intake of breath, letting the memory roll off of her. That was then. And this was  _ now _ . She looked at the welcome folder in her lap and managed a small smile. Aberration had chosen her, despite everything, and she wasn’t going to let the past get in the way of her future. And, really, she reasoned, she had nothing to worry about: her survey had been bulletproof. 

It didn’t matter that Sara Lance had applied to Aberration, too. There was no way she got it. Not with a work ethic modeled after a sloth. And even if she did, it was a big company. The biggest tech firm in the Greater Santa Monica area. They probably wouldn’t even work in the same department. 

But none of that mattered. Because  _ she couldn’t have gotten it _ . Two applicants from the same college accepted to a firm that rivaled  _ Google? _ Tough chance. Impossible chance. 

Ava let out another long, meditative breath. Why was she wasting her time thinking about Sara―idiot, career-ruiner, walked-out-on-me―Lance? She didn’t care. She was bigger than grudges. 

Before she could lie to herself for the fourth time that day, her phone buzzed. She raised an eyebrow, glaring at the screen. It was an email notification from Aberration. Her breath caught, her skin crawling with excitement. This had to be it. Had to be  _ that _ email, no buts about it. 

She opened it without hesitation, her eyes carving holes into the tiny phone screen. Hi―yada yada―hope you’re settling in―yada yada― _ chosen your partner _ ―yada yada― _ entire summer with this person _ ―yada yada―nearly perfectly matches your survey answers―ok, where is the goddamn name?

Oh.

No.

This had to be a mistake. She must have edited the email, somehow. Siri must have heard her (angrily) mumble something under her breath. Must have learned how to use find-and-replace somehow. Oh, maybe it was a prank? Maybe her friends had thought this would be just hilarious. Really, there was just no way. Ava’s heart was beating a thousand beats a minute, and she held her phone in a death grip.

“You have been paired with Sara Lance of the University of Maryland (crazy, same school! Do you guys know each other?) We are so excited to talk to you guys all about your project for the summer. Excited to finally meet you this Monday, Ava!”

This couldn't be happening, but it was.


	2. the compatibility test

The Aberration office was a true spectacle. It stood out like a goose in a field of ducks, slightly taller, prouder, more obnoxious than the rest. The exterior was made almost entirely of glass, offering insight into the hustle and bustle of the inside. Employees were dressed down to slacks and converse, the infamous “wear whatever, dude” policy in full effect.

Not like that policy applied to Ava Sharpe. She had naturally opted for the the pinnacle of professionalism: the pantsuit. She’d rather have walked in on a decomposing corpse than be caught dead in ripped jeans and a t-shirt.

Entering the building, the abusive Santa Monica soundscape faded away, replaced by the hum of an open office space. She felt a calm, renewing peace wash over her. This was her space. These were her _people_ . Ava bit her lip, stifling a grin that threatened at the edges of her lips. Everything else be damned, she had _made_ it.

“Ava Sharpe?” summoned a voice directly to her left. She jumped, torn from her thoughts. Turning her head, she took in the image of the man in front of her: dove white suit, a bold, snakeskin pocket square. Ava coughed, trying to suppress a laugh. He looked like he was trying to impersonate a businessman, and doing so poorly.

“Um, yes?” she replied quizzically. She hid her reaction well, biting down on a laugh; even despite appearances, he did work for Aberration, after all. She had an image to uphold, no matter what she thought of someone’s style choices. She straightened her back, adopting her habitually stick-straight posture.

(Kids in middle school always teased that she looked like a ruler, but Ava thought they looked like balls of playdoh all slumped over like that, so.)

A few long moments passed, the man seeming to review her wordlessly. Her face felt hot, insecurity suddenly hijacking her well-constructed facade of confidence. Gratefully, the man didn’t seem to notice. He just smiled, unstoppably chipper.

“Oh, Ava, how fantastic!” he suddenly cheered, clasping his hands together in enthusiasm, “so pleased to meet you. I’m Gavin Green. This is my son and interim assistant, Gary.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. Gary? It took her a moment to process that another man―shorter, slimmer, only slightly less flamboyant―had been standing by Gavin’s side the entire time. He looked almost like a ghost, skin pale and cheeks flushed. His eyes were drilled into Ava’s and he sported a sheepish grin that told Ava all she needed to know. She would be keeping at least five feet away from this guy at all times.

“Ava Sharpe, I am _such_ a big fan of yours,” Gary insisted, extending his hand suddenly and stepping into Ava’s personal space. Ava grimaced, but shook his hand briefly out of politeness. She rescinded it just as quickly, noticing the way Gary’s grasp slightly trembled at the contact.

 _Boys_. She tried very hard not to roll her eyes. Thank God she was g―

Well. Whatever. She gulped down the words that felt stuck in her throat.

“A fan?” she asked, disbelieving. Ava didn’t have fans. She was a college student, and not a dumb student athlete, either. Her instagram account had sub 600 followers. She didn’t have _fans_.

“Of course,” he emphasized, matching her look of disbelief, “your essay on artificial intelligence making the role of the programmer obsolete was revolutionary. A computer that programs itself? I nearly cried.” His face had gone almost cherry with excitement, speaking about her junior thesis like she had reinvented the wheel.

“Well, thank you then, Gary,” she replied earnestly, cheeks flushing. His father looked down at him, shaking his head. She really could not decipher the dynamic there. His son _and_ his personal assistant? Apparently nepotism reached new heights in Los Angeles.

“I have to say I agree with Gary’s enthusiasm. When I was selecting the intern I wanted for my team, no one stood out to me like you did, Ava. Your unrelenting curiosity about the absolute limits of technology is exactly why I chose you.”

Ava’s heart thudded. Oh shit. This wasn’t just any guy wearing a snake skin pocket square. This was her _boss_.

“Oh, wow, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Green,” Ava sputtered, heart beating fast. She suddenly felt wholly underprepared for this. Who did she think she was? Acting so nonchalant in front of an Aberration employee. Acting like a fool in front of her _boss_ . What was he going to think? That she was just like _Sara_? No respect for authority? That wasn’t her.

“Oh, please, just call me Gavin,” he laughed, waving her off, “Mr. Green makes me sound so _old_ . If you wanna call anyone by their last name here, I’m sure Gary would _love_ that sort of thing.”

Ava’s cheeks reddened as her eyes drifted to Gary. He grinned back. Not a chance in hell.

“But, Mr. Green, I don’t want to insult you―” Ava frowned, caught off guard by his casual attitude. No wonder he had picked _Sara_ , but why her? She was here to follow rules, not break them.

“Shush, you’re not insulting anyone,” he laughed, giving her an odd but reassuring thumbs up, “now follow me. We have a lot of work to do, and oh so little time to do it! The idea that internships only last for the _summer_ , now that’s really what’s disrespectful about all of this.”

Ava nodded obediently, falling in toe behind him. If this really was her boss, she might just have to rewire her expectations. Lower her guard, if only slightly. But that didn’t mean she was going to start wearing _sneakers_ to work. She wasn’t an idiot.

“You know, it’s particularly wonderful that you’re arriving just now,” Gavin continued, leading Ava further into the building. The place was like an elaborate maze, decorated fruitfully with vibrant colors and brimming with unexpected corners and twisting stairwells. It was more like a modern art exhibit than a place of work.

“Why’s that?” she asked, eyes wide. She was arriving on time, after all. Her anxiety spiked. Was she not arriving on time? She had put this day in her calendar months ago.

“You’re partner Sara just got in a few minutes ago. She’s such a delight. God―I already love her. I really think we’re going to have such wonderful team chemistry. Is that too soon? It’s probably too soon. But, really Ava, she bought me _flowers_ , isn’t that such a darling thing to do?” Gavin rambled, but Ava had trouble following anything after Sara’s name had been uttered.

Sara got here _earlier_ than her?

Did he just say the L word?

And she brought _flowers_?!

Ava’s brain was going on overdrive. Her hands morphed into fists, processing all of this very contradictory information. She still wasn’t sure this was _her_ Sara Lance―not to imply that she was in any way possessive over that idiot―but it was just so deeply out of character. Or, maybe it wasn’t. Sara was unpredictable, if anything. Maybe this was all an elaborate plot to have Ava ousted, for Sara to become the favorite before Ava could even get through the double doors.

Ava’s frown only thickened. Gary observed her as they walked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Are you okay, Miss Sharpe?” he asked politely, coming into her bubble yet again, “you look a bit… um… what’s the word―frightened?”

Ava’s frown immediately dropped, replaced by an expression of pure horror. She was not _frightened_. She could care less what Sara Lance had up her sleeve. Ava was here to prove herself based on talent, not party tricks.

Flowers wilt, anyways.

“I’m fine,” Ava gritted, managing an unconvincing smile.

“Alrighty,” Gary relented, slightly afraid to poke the bear any further, “but if you ever need to talk…”

“Got it, Gary,” Ava cut him off, rolling her eyes. She did not need a therapist. She knew what her problem was.

In fact, it was here right now: twirling around ridiculously in an office chair, wearing black jeans and white nikes. Ava’s chest tensed, her breath caught in her windpipe. She felt her nervous system surge, every chaotic emotion in her body nearly persuading her to make a complete fool of herself. She closed her eyes tightly, letting out a shackled breath. She reminded herself that this was a _workplace_ . This was her _dream_ , and she held it delicately.

She opened her eyes reluctantly, and found Sara staring back at her. She looked unreadable, her eyes squinted, her mouth a straight, unmoving line. How did she always keep so infuriating apathetic, so entirely uncaring? Ava frowned, the lines of her frown digging so hard into her skin that it felt like it might have cracked. She would never admit it, but everything she felt: the nerves, the elevated heart rate, the mind-numbing frustration... it wasn’t just anger.

Yeah, fuck, okay―Ava was terrified.

She stood up a little straighter, moving her arms sharply behind her back, “it’s been a while, Sara,” she uttered from feet away, voice thick with things unsaid. Sara quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“So you two know each other then?” Gavin interjected gleefully, tearing the pair out of their silent game of eye-intimidation, “fantastic. Have you worked together on anything in the past? It’s not often we get two interns from the same school!”

Ava grimaced. She saw Sara visibly tighten, too, her lip sucked under her teeth. Ava wondered what might be going on in that dense head of hers―did she feel guilt? Remorse? Or did the memory mean nothing to her, just another petty fight for the indestructible Sara Lance?

“We have,” Ava admitted before Sara could inevitably throw her under the bus, “Sara and I have very _different_ ideologies about work, actually. You could say they are… conflicting. I’m honestly not sure why we were paired together, frankly, but I would never question the algorithms…”

Sara laughed dryly, rolling her eyes.

“Of course, Ava Sharpe would _never_ question the algorithms. Because that’s all you care about, right? The code? You do know that we code to help actual people, right? Like human beings?” Sara bit, her words filled with venom.

“ _God_ , Sara,” Ava growled, voice low as she shot her a glare, “not _here_.”

Gavin looked between them, eyebrows furrowed.

“Huh,” he remarked, surprisingly unperturbed by the intense bickering, “not exactly the dynamic I envisioned for my all-star interns, but definitely something I can work with! I admire your passion ladies. Actually, it’s exactly _why_ I picked you two. Your survey answers were _completely_ disparate.”

Both Sara and Ava’s mouths dropped, staring at Gavin in utter bewilderment.

“Mr. Green,” Ava said, voice harsh but still polite, “why in the world would we be selected to work together, then? Isn’t that… _entirely_ unproductive?”

Sara laughed bitterly again, completely unbelieving.

“You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I have to agree with her here, Gav. How are we going to finish a project by the end of the summer if Ava constantly looks like she’s about to store me in a filing cabinet?”

Ava balked, eyes narrowing at Sara. Like _that_ would be how she’d get rid of her. A filing cabinet? She would just climb out. It’d be much more efficient to just ship her off somewhere.

Not that she’d thought about this before.

“I can practically hear you thinking at me,” Sara rolled her eyes.

“Friends,” Gavin laughed, somehow still amused, “let’s just put our differences aside for a moment, shall we? Yes, my idea to put you two together may be unorthodox, but it’s entirely vital to what I want to accomplish.”

Ava raised an eyebrow. What was this all about?

“For the project?” Ava prodded, curious, her mind rattling with possibility. Maybe, just _maybe_ , she could put up with Sara, if the stakes were high enough. Sara seemed to be thinking the same thing, a small smile creeping up her face.

“Yes, exactly!” Gavin grinned, “it’s all very exciting, but here is the basic idea―we’re going to be building a machine learning software, an _artificial intelligence,_ per se, that will be able to see disputes between people and solve them. A mediator bot, if you will. A piece of code that brings _people_ together, across even the toughest lines. Code name, ehem, _Project GIDEON._ ”

Ava stood there, astonished. It was a revolutionarily clever idea, if they could really pull it off. It had the power to extend way past the workplace, into the home, into divorce court, into _warzones_. She didn’t intend to, but she couldn’t help but look at Sara, desperate to share her excitement with someone, anyone; for a moment, they seemed to forget the past, looking at eachother like kids on Christmas morning. Sara bit her lip, suffocating the slightest, brightest grin. It made Ava’s stomach turn.

Um, or―no it didn't. Ava swallowed, hard, and turned towards Gavin.

“Mr. Green, I would be _honored_ to work on Project Gideon with you,” Ava said sincerely, voice dripping with excitement.

“Ditto,” Sara agreed, hiding her excitement with a casual shrug, “we might bite each other’s heads off in the process, but if we can really build something that has the possibility to do so much good, I’m in.”

Sara paused, taking a reflectionairy moment before rising from her chair, “but if Ava tries to put me in a leash, I’ll find myself an internship at Google, trust me.”

Ava balked. Only Sara Lance would have the gall to say something like that on the _first day of an internship_ . Ava couldn’t help but let out an airy laugh. She was almost impressed, key word _almost_.

“So, can you bite that bullet, Sharpe? Or are you still too angry at yourself for letting me go last time?” Sara sneered.

Ava seethed, skin crawling with bubbling anger. But―she took a bated breath―and she shoved it down. She reminded herself of the ten part plan, of the goal, of the dream.

But then she looked at Sara, and her chest was heavy again. She gritted her teeth. This was going to be a _long_ fucking summer.

“I never make the same mistake twice,” Ava returned cooly, looking at Sara with such a directness that she’s sure she saw her lip twitch.

“Just wonderful!” Gavin exclaimed, completely oblivious to the tension. He shoved Gary affectionately in his triumph, and the boy yelped, turning turnip red with surprise, “okay now, enough talk. We have a world of things to learn. It’s time to make a flippin’ _life form_.”

The first two hours went without a hitch. Not that it was anything to brag about―all Ava and Sara had to do was sit, listen, and try not to look at each other without having the need to draw blood. Gavin detailed most of the nitty-gritty aspects of the project, covering who would do what and when. It was straight-forward, well-structured, and just the perfect amount of challenging. Ava was in her element.

That was, until the homework assignment came.

“Not gonna happen,” Sara laughed bitterly, waving away Gavin’s words like it was a passing thought.

“I’m sorry but I have to agree, Mr. Green. The probability that Ms. Lance and I will be able to collaborate on something successfully is already incredibly low. To do so unsupervised? Not to be forward, but it almost sounds like you _want_ this project to fail,” Ava guffawed.

Gavin gave them a tight-lipped, no-nonsense smile, “Sorry, Ava, but you’ve missed the mark there. There is nothing I care about _more_ than the success of this team. Without you two collaborating outside of our regularly scheduled hours, we’ll never be able to finish a project of this scope in the short span of a summer.”

Neither girl budged, faces basically stone blocks. They did not seem convinced.

“Look, if you two really feel that passionately about it, I could see to it that you’re assigned to new projects,” he shrugged, “but let me assure you both of something, first.”

He paused, taking in a breath. He hadn’t thought he would have to throw out this bone so early in the game.

“If we manage to complete this project, I can guarantee both of you ladies that you will have _permanent_ positions awaiting you at Aberration in the following fall. Not entry-level ones, neither. You’ll come back fully fledged software engineers. I imagine you know what sort of weight that carries.”

Ava’s heart nearly fell out of her chest. For the first time, she could very nearly feel her dream on her fingertips, the heavy weight of it descending on her like God’s own personal blessing. This was it. There was no turning back.

“Sara and I will have our assignment to you by tomorrow,” she responded, not waiting for Sara’s approval. She could hear Sara huff, obviously annoyed that she had decided to speak for her―but the truth was that Ava knew what this meant for both of them. The offer of a lifetime had just been dropped at their feet, and she was not going to let any teammate, no matter how _Sara Lance-y,_ get in the way of her grabbing it by the horns.

“Yeah, whatever, what she said,” Sara rolled her eyes, but looked Gavin in the eyes, “I know an opportunity when I see one.”

“I am so happy to hear it!” Gavin celebrated, his usual chipper attitude returning in an instant, “well then, it looks like I can let you two go for the day. And don’t stress about tonight’s homework, it really shouldn't take you all that long. Maybe fifteen minutes at the most. Think of it as a bonding exercise!”

 _A bonding exercise_. Ava laughed to herself. Like her and Sara could be bonded by anything other than mutually assured destruction.

With a quick catch of Sara’s narrowed gaze, she knew she was thinking the same thing.

They exited the office side-by-side, each refusing to acknowledge the other. The tension between them sizzled like a steaming pot, the heat so violent that it made the water bubble over the edges and onto the stovetop. Even the air around them seemed thick, clouded with a million uncommunicated words.

Ava swallowed them all down. She didn’t have anything to say to Sara. Especially nothing that constituted _talking about their feelings_. They were coworkers out of obligation, not friends.

“I think it would make sense if we worked at my place,” Ava instructed, finally breaking the silence, “it’s only a block away, and I have my own room.” A room that had previously been _only_ hers, her quiet, sacred space.

“Yeah, whatever, okay,” Sara shrugged, rolling her eyes. Ava quirked an eyebrow. She had given in suspiciously quickly. For Sara Lance, that was basically a miracle. She noted it, but didn’t stir the pot just yet. It wasn’t worth it. They would inevitably be yelling at each other within the hour.

The walk to Ava’s house was quick. Not only was it close by, but it had also managed to become a silent competition for the pair who could walk faster towards it. Neither said a word, but they stampeded like children after each other, wordlessly pacing in front and behind until they arrived at Ava’s door.

“Is everything a race to you?” Ava accused, barely holding in a heaving breath, “it’s a five minute walk, for god sake.”

“Oh, like that was my idea?” Sara jabbed back, “you were the one who kept walking in front of me for no reason. Are you my guard dog, or something? I don’t remember picking you up at doggy foster care.”

Ava seethed, the joke sliding into her like a knife, hitting a little too close to home for her liking. Sara could read the obvious pain in her eyes, her expression faltering. She bit her lip, and looked away towards the door, not wanting to dwell in Ava’s hurt eyes.

“Whatever, it’s fine. But are you gonna open this thing, or just stand there?” Sara suggested, suddenly uncomfortable.

Ava slid her eyes closed, steadying herself. She thought about Gavin’s words before, about the project, about everything that hung on this. She took the key out of her pocket and shoved it in the door without a word, leading Sara through the downstairs and up towards her bedroom.

Coming upon Zari and Amaya’s room, Sara stopped for a moment and ran her finger along the namecard.

“These two live together? Makes sense,” Sara chuckled, “they were always attached to the hip.”

Ava was caught off guard by the simpleness of the statement. Was this small talk? Her and Sara didn’t do small talk. That wasn’t in the contract. But, still, she was curious―

“And why exactly do you know them?” Ava prodded, attempting to sound simultaneously bitter and nonchalant. Sara rolled her eyes in response.

“I did a hackathon with them at Brown. Zari and Amaya happened to be on my team. I only found out they got internships here just this morning,” Sara answered, ignoring Ava’s tone, “small world.”

Ava felt her stomach stir, anger immediately rising at _hackathon_. She opened the door to her room and set down her stuff, but she couldn’t hold in the rising storm that had been accumulating over the day.

“I’m sure you were a _fantastic_ asset to their team,” Ava bit, anger evident in her features. Sara finally faced away from the opposite door, looking at Ava in disbelief. What momentary ceasefire they had enjoyed was now gone, a hurricane breaking the tide.

“You really still think I’m the reason we lost, don’t you?” Sara growled in disbelief, “you, Miss _perfect_ Ava Sharpe, who was too much of a fucking control freak to let me do _anything_ , and then threw me out of the competition the moment I tried to actually contribute! And you think it was _me_. Amazing.” Sara’s voice had heightened and fallen, staring down Ava with an intensity.

Ava’s mouth opened, then closed again. That’s _really_ what she thought happened?

“It’s not my fault you have no concept of constraints!” Ava returned, “if we did it your way, we would have no project to submit, just a bunch of useless, endless code that returned nothing. If you had just _listened_ to me, we would have _won_.”

“You are really, truly something, Ava Sharpe,” Sara laughed, but it was cold, dry as the Sahara, “you basically bullied me out of our team. Called me _undeserving_ . I guess you know I’m here on scholarships, yeah? I get it. I’m not here on Mommy’s money. I didn’t start coding until I got to college. I haven’t been doing this my whole life. But _fuck that_ , Ava, I _care_ . And you can’t take that away from me. You’re not taking _this_ away from me.”

Ava felt like she had the wind knocked out of her, a surge of guilt crawling up her spine. She had never meant it like that, never meant to belittle Sara over something so stupid, so insignificant. That wasn’t what she―

“That’s not what I―fuck,” Ava voice was small as she ran her hand through her hair, “that’s not what I ever meant, Sara. I’m―I’m sorry if you heard it that way. I… I know I can get in my head sometimes.”

Sara looked back at her briefly, searching her eyes; she saw the truthful shame there, saw Ava’s cheeks colored red. She let out a breath, and dropped it.

“Yeah, dude, no shit,” Sara rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t out of malice. Ava offered her a semblance of something―not exactly a smile, but definitely not a frown, “it’s whatever. It’s the past. This internship is what matters.”

“That’s something we can both agree on,” Ava muttered, voice still fragile. She finally sat down on her bed, deflating, and took out her laptop from her bag. Sara joined her, making a point to sit at least a foot away on the sheets. The two looked completely ridiculous: sitting as far apart as possible on Ava’s twin sized mattress, staring at their laptops like they held the world’s secrets on their screens.

“So, what is this dumb homework all about, anyway?” Sara wondered aloud, bringing up the file that Gavin had sent them both.

“It’s not _dumb_ , Lance, it’s probably integral to the project,” Ava corrected.

“All homework is dumb, Ava,” Sara rolled her eyes. Ava bristled at the use of her first name; she hadn’t heard Sara use it so… casually, probably ever. It sounded strange on her lips. Foreign. But also kind of…

Pleasant.

Ava swallowed.

“You’re just so _wrong_ ,” Ava returned with an exaggerated groan. Looking over the top of her laptop screen, she swore that she saw the slightest tip of Sara’s lips, a barely there smile at Ava’s ridiculous attachment to homework.  

“Actually, I am insanely right,” Sara balked, spinning her laptop screen to gesture at the email they had received, “Gavin wants us to take a _compatibility test_. Wasn’t that, like, the entire purpose of our surveys?”

Ava couldn’t help but agree. It was supposed to be the entire purpose of the surveys. A purpose that had been defiled by his idea of a working partnership.

“This compatibility test will help us get an idea for the kind of thing Gideon will take as input for her…,” Sara read Gavin’s email off the screen, “did he just call Gideon a _her_? He’s really that gay, wow.”

Ava’s eyebrows shot up, “don’t say that, Sara,” she tensed.

“What? Call him gay? Because he is _so_ gay,” Sara smirked, “I call it like I see ‘em, Sharpe.”

Sara’s eyes held hers for a second too long, an entirely unfamiliar look present in her gaze. Ava must have been dreaming, because she swore she saw Sara’s pupils dilate, her eyes stroke down briefly to Ava’s lips, and then magically back to her laptop screen.

This partnership was obviously poisoning her. She was starting to fucking _hallucinate_.

“Whatever,” Ava relented, opening up the compatibility test. There were _fifty_ questions, dear god. Fifty questions too much. This was far more information than she ever needed to know about Sara Lance.

“I’m pretty sure I know all of these answers already,” Sara said boldly, checking boxes quickly on her screen. Ava looked at her in disbelief.

“You’re ruining the data, Sara!” she insisted, leaning over to whack Sara’s arm away from the touchpad. Eyebrows raising, she realized what she just did, and immediately retracted her hand, face flushed.

Sara, to her disbelief, just grinned. She looked thoroughly amused.

“Ow, Sharp, you might have left a bruised,” Sara teased. Ava just rolled her eyes, thoroughly _over_ everything that was happening and everything that would happen for the rest of this summer.

“Look, let’s just start answering. We can’t feed the AI lies. We have to be honest, even if it requires that I learn if you’re a cat or dog person,” Ava gritted.

Sara chuckled, “I think you already know that one, cat person.”

“Dog person,” she returned, eyebrows knitted.

They stared at each other for a moment in mock intimidation, and it was truly so stupid that Ava almost cracked a smile. She bit her lip, stifling it, and looked at the rest of the questions.

_What’s your ideal date?_

Ava nearly choked on air. _This_ was Gavin’s idea of a _bonding_ activity? He had to be kidding. This was a love compatibility test pulled straight off the twelve-year-old section of the internet. It was so raw that it even spelled compatibility wrong.

“I know which one you’d pick,” Sara grinned, and Ava noted that their spiteful dynamic had been momentarily replaced by Sara’s newly discovered love of _torturing_ her, “bookstore. ‘Cause you’re a huge nerd.”

Ava just shook her head. Of course.

“You are also literally the textbook definition of a nerd, if you hadn’t noticed, we’re _both_ computer science majors,” Ava bit back, “and you’re also wrong, as is typical. I’m sure your date would be the ‘one involving the bedroom,’ or is that too on the nose?”

Sara’s eyes widened at Ava’s suggestion, her mouth dropping open.

“You really think I’m a huge slut, don’t you?” Sara laughed bitterly, and Ava felt another familiar pang of guilt rise in her chest. She really did _not_ choose her words well around this girl.

“That’s not what I―”

Sara cut her off, grinning, “I’m _kidding_. I’m just happy to see my reputation precedes me. But you’re still wrong, that wasn’t what I chose.”

Ava rolled her eyes so hard they felt like they might come loose. Sara just continued scrolling.

After ten silent minutes, they both finished answering. Reviewing both of their answers, the website sent them both a score out of 50. It was the number of answers that they had both picked the same.

“Wow, we got forty-nine out of a hundred? We should fly to Vegas and get _hitched_ , Sharpe,” Sara teased, brushing past the score and exiting the page.

Ava stared at her blankly, skin crawling with unease. She had obviously read the number wrong.

“It’s not out of a hundred, Sara, it’s out of fifty,” Ava admitted, voice small. Thinking back through all the questions, she had imagined that only her soulmate could have gotten anywhere close to a perfect score. Sure, they were multiple choice, but the questions were so specific, so bone-cuttingly intimate―

_What is the most important quality for your partner to have?_

_What would you name your future kid?_

_What is your parenting philosophy?_

_What is the most romantic thing your partner could ever do for you?_

_What is the limit that you’d go for love?_

Ava’s pulse was beating a mile a minute, her head a cacophony of all the things that she suddenly knew about Sara, all these uncomfortably _sweet_ things. Did this mean―was their only different answer that Sara was a _dog_ person?

“Oh,” Sara remarked, voice barely a whisper, “that’s… kind of crazy.”

“Yeah,” Ava coughed, “but whatever, you probably cheated and looked at mine.”

Sara shot her glare, but her heart wasn’t in it. There was something absent there.

Ava shut her laptop closed and stared at the floral patterns of her comforter, her heart beating a racket in her chest.

Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, a single thought hung in Ava's mind: she was starting to think she might not really know anything about Sara Lance.

And that, above all else, was the scariest feeling she'd felt today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh im so damn excited to get going with these two. my previous fic was hitting about 2~3k a chapter, but i'm aiming to keep this one steady at about 5-6k a chapter, so strap in because the slow burn is about to be deliciousss. please do let me know what you think / love / hate / otherwise!


	3. that 4AM feeling

For the third time that week, Gavin entered their open-air cubicle in a suit that may have better suited a contestant on RuPaul’s Drag Race: bright purple and tight fitting, a flamingo patterned pocket square, and _God,_ the _peacock_ _socks_.

“You really outdo yourself, Gav,” Sara grinned, eyes drifting to Ava’s with a look that could only say  _ yes _ ,  _ this is what a heterosexual looks like _ . Ava rolled her eyes and looked away, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at her lower lip. 

It had been three days since the internship had begun, and Ava and Sara had so far successfully resisted the urge to murder each other. Of course, as Ava would constantly remind herself, this had very little to do with Sara being a remotely more bearable individual, and everything to do with the amount of work that they had been tasked with. 

Gavin had not been kidding when he said Gideon would be an undertaking; nor, Ava was beginning to realize, was he exaggerating that the summer barely qualified as an adequate amount of time to take on a project with such gigantic scope. To put it lightly, this shit was  _ insane _ . Building human relationships out of code had never been truly attempted before, and certainly not by two twenty years olds (who hated each other) and a fairly capable software engineer/part-time youtube fashion guru. 

Ava groaned into her hands. The worst part? They hadn’t even started  _ programming _ yet. They were still just outlining the project requirements. For someone who truly, genuinely loved monotony, this was fucking  _ monotonous _ .

“Thank you, Sara! Sharp eye as always,” Gavin finally returned, offering Sara an egregiously large grin, “best of all, my peacock socks and I bring fantastic news―as of today, we are officially going to begin coding the Gideon interface!”

Ava’s grim expression fell off her face in an instant, both her and Sara tearing their eyes away from their laptops with ecstatic grins. 

“Thank  _ fuck _ , I was honestly about to quit,” Sara joked, visibly exasperated.  

Ava’s mouth fell open. 

“How have you not been fired from every job you’ve ever worked?” Ava balked, squinting at her in genuine confusion.  

“Um, I’m hot  _ and _ talented?” Sara smirked, “who would ever let me go?”

Ava inhaled sharply, grinding her teeth at the comment. Something turned heavily in her stomach; a new, unexplored feeling stirred there, something simmering that wasn’t entirely anger. Anger she knew like the back of her hand; anger was an emotion that she could direct at Sara like a perfectly-aimed arrow to jugular, a routine that had become almost habit. 

But after that night: the yelling, the almost apology, the near-perfect match on the quiz…

Something had shifted in Ava’s perspective, like a brick falling out of a carefully built structure, threatening to topple everything she had constructed. Because suddenly Sara Lance might not be, like,  _ evil _ . She was still the worst, definitely, but maybe… 

Ava swallowed. Whatever she was, it was of no consequence to Ava. Sara was a teammate at most. If she had an easier time putting up with her, fucking fantastic. There was nothing more to it than that. They would be friendly enough until they went back to school and resumed their very separate, very different lives.

Ava felt that familiar anger settle in her chest; Sara would go back to being  _ Sara Lance _ . And whatever gray area might exist in the girl in front of her now, it was certainly only out of necessity. Sara had to abide by rules here. Sara had to take orders here. Back at college, things would be just as they were, and Sara would be that same stubborn idiot Ava knew her to be.

At least, that’s what Ava told herself. 

“Keep believing that,” Ava bit back, a hint of poison hiding there. Sara frowned, looking briefly, nearly  _ hurt  _ at her tone, but the wound quickly vanished, replaced by a perfect poker face. Ava didn’t dwell on how her stomach turned again seeing that flash of pain in Sara’s expression. 

Per usual, Gavin ignored the tension with award-winning obliviousness. Instead, he pulled open a powerpoint and turned his monitor to face the two.

“So, as I said, our task for the week is creating our first iteration of the Gideon interface. It is best practice to do this portion in JavaScript; I assume you ladies are familiar with that language?”

Ava’s neck grew hot, anxiety instantly rising in her chest. Ava had spent the past two years learning back-end programming intimately, mastering only three languages: Java, C#, and C++. She loathed anything to do with the front-end of the things; who cares if a web page looks pretty? Who cares if an image fits nicely with text? She had left that to her group mates. Ava was more than happy to take on the brute work of designing algorithms and bug fixing. 

Leveling her breathing, Ava blinked heavily. None of that mattered; she knew how languages worked, so, logically, she could pick this one up. It would probably take her a day maximum, and then  _ maybe _ , if she was feeling charitable, she could find a few hours to teach Sara. 

“Yes! That’s my favorite language,” Sara cheered, fist-pumping the air, “just give me the deets, Gav, I’m ready to do some actual brain-work around here.”

Ava tensed, clenching her teeth. Sara already  _ knew it _ ? She was completely frozen. She couldn’t show Gavin that she was less prepared, less capable than  _ Sara _ . What would he think of her? That her resume and experience were just shams? 

“Oh―of course, me too,” Ava responded, not really thinking. Sara raised an eyebrow at her, hearing the slight shake of resolve in Ava’s tone. Ava could see the way Sara’s lips tipped upwards, obviously enjoying the brief tank in Ava’s confidence. Ava glared back at her.

“Perfect! I’d love nothing more than to start now, but unfortunately administration requires you all to mingle with the other interns. You all should head over to the atrium for a while and come let me know when it’s over, kay?” Gavin ordered, obviously restless about missing a moment of work time. 

The pair nodded back obediently, but Ava grimaced.  _ Networking _ . She groaned internally. Undoubtedly the worst part about entering the workforce.

Almost as if she had read her mind, Sara shot her a teasing smirk and laughed, “you know, meeting people our age is usually referred to as  _ making friends _ . You should probably look a bit more excited. Or is my theory that you’re actually a self-programming robot really true?” 

Ava rolled her eyes at her, raising from her desk with a start. If this brief break was worth anything, at least it would be a reprieve from having to listen to Sara open her  _ goddamn mouth _ .

Like the rest of the building, Abberation’s atrium was something out of outer space. Ava’s eyes widened, gaze scraping over the vibrancy of color, the multicolored chairs and long, stain-glass windows. The room could have been flung straight off the surface of the sun. Ava was starting to think Gavin’s style ideas were less the exception and more the norm at this place. 

“Ava, right?” 

Ava jumped, eyes re-focusing on the girl in front her: curly brown hair, gentle voice, a polite but friendly smile; Ava’s eyes darted to her name tag―Amaya Jiwe―and recognition hit her. 

“Oh! You’re Amaya,” Ava remarked dumly, wincing at how embarrassing this interaction had already become for her, “we live together.” 

Amaya laughed, smiling back at her genuinely. 

“Yes, I know. You’re Sara Lance’s partner, then? I heard you guys arguing―err―talking a few days ago in your room. Seems like you have some history,” she said calmly, smile never fading.

Ava’s face heated up, “I’m sorry if we were loud,” she apologized, guilt stricken, “Sara and I just… don’t really get along. If I’m being honest, we can barely stand each other. Completely different worlds.”

Amaya laughed lightly, something like empathy in her eyes, “sounds just like Zari and I. Well, maybe not the yelling, but I get it. Sometimes it takes awhile to warm up to someone whose perspective you find completely alienating. It also doesn’t help when you’re both as stubborn as bulls.” Amaya’s eyes drifted to the buffet where Zari and Sara were stuffing their mouths, animated in conversation. 

Ava couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Amaya, but there’s just no way that Zari can be as insufferable as Sara is,” Ava said dryly, watching as Sara unceremoniously dropped her second plate in the trash can, lining up for― _ thirds _ ?!

“Sara’s really not that bad,” Amaya nudged Ava on the forearm, watching her intently, “she’s a firecracker, sure, but she has a big heart. If it weren’t for her, I probably wouldn’t even be here.”

Ava’s eyebrows rose;  _ what _ ? 

“That can hardly be true,” Ava squinted. Amaya smiled, obviously taking amusement in Ava’s defensiveness.

“It is,” she corrected plainly, “I had just gotten to Brown after leaving Zambesi, my village in Africa. I was totally out of my element. I signed up for Brown’s hackathon basically by accident, and when I got there I was just about to leave before Sara came up to me and insisted I join her team, which I thought was  _ crazy _ because I had no programming experience at all. She saw how lost I was and took a chance on me anyway. I’m sure our first place trophy is the only reason I got an interview here at Aberration.”

Ava’s mouth dropped open in complete disbelief. Her brain was working on overdrive to try and reconcile this new information with the idea of Sara she had so concretely constructed. Lazy. Selfish. Greedy.

I mean, it seemed genuinely improbable―Sara had traveled all the way to Brown only to encourage someone with  _ no _ programming experience on her team? Had taken in someone she just met out of pure selflessness? Had she been possessed? 

Ava’s heart fluttered, an unmistakable softness sitting in her chest. Her eyes traveled to Sara and she felt momentarily  _ warm _ , studying the girl she had spent so long hating and suddenly feeling deflated, filled instead by an overabundance of curiosity. Sara turned, catching her staring, and Ava felt her stomach turning, looking away in an instant.

_ Fuck _ . 

“That’s… certainly new information,” Ava replied, finally responding to Amaya’s tale. Amaya looked at her with a raised eyebrow, a curiosity in her eyes. 

“Well, just keep it in mind when you want to tear her hair out,” Amaya joked, “there’s more to her than meets the eye.”

_ No shit _ , Ava bit her lip. For all the things she had been counting on for this internship, having to redefine her idea of Sara Lance was definitely not on the list.

And it still wasn’t. 

“Yeah,” Ava offered weakly, “anyway, what project are you and Zari working on?”

Amaya’s smile grew, “oh―not to brag―but it is easily the best one.”

“Is that so?” Ava laughed, “so? Spill.”

“We’re making a time machine,” Amaya said seriously. Ava’s eyebrows shot up. This  _ was _ Aberration. She could be serious.

“A  _ what _ ?”

“You heard her,” Zari interjected, sneaking up behind Amaya and nudging her in the elbow, “it’s going to blow everything else out of the water, easy.” 

Sara snaked in behind her, following suite and standing by Ava. Ava chose to avoid looking at her, not sure she was ready to open the floodgates on the conflicting emotions she was processing this morning. 

“Hah! That’s some big talk, Z,” Sara smirked, “just be honest, it’s more like a time  _ saving _ machine. You’re just trying to make your efficiency maximizer sound cooler than, well, an  _ efficiency maximizer. _ ” 

Zari rolled her eyes, “Waverider is more than a silly program. It  _ literally _ tells you what your day is going to be like tomorrow. What do we have now that can do that?”

“Astrology,” Sara deadpans. Zari and Amaya both laugh, and Ava lets a small smile slip.

Sara catches it, of course, and quirks an eyebrow in her direction, almost like a challenge. 

“So, you tell Amaya how I’m ruining the project, yet? Or did I get here just in time?” Sara asks boldly, toeing the line between teasing and outright accustation. Ava bites her lip, guilt creeping up her stomach. 

Amaya interjects before Ava can answer, “I was actually just telling Ava all about how you saved me from complete embarrassment at last year’s hackathon. I can’t thank you enough, Sara.”

Sara laughed uncomfortably, not adept at taking compliments; a slight redness rose to her cheeks, and Ava had to look away, her mind spinning at the sight of Sara’s genuine embarrassment at the compliment. 

“It was nothing,” Sara shrugged, looking up shyly, “you turned out to be more talented than me anyway. I would have left you alone out there if I knew you’d end up upstaging me!”

Was―was she being  _ humble _ ? Ava felt nauseous. 

Amaya just shook her head, a grateful smile plastered on her lips. Zari looked on with amusement. 

“Oh, please,” Zari interjected, “we all know I was the GOAT of that project. Sara and Amaya here were only a means to an end. Google recruiting was basically eye sex-ing me from across the room.”

At that, Ava genuinely couldn’t stop a hard laugh from escaping her lips. The others laughed with her, but Sara’s eyes were stuck to the side of Ava’s face. Ava could feel her stare hot on her cheek, piercing through Ava’s facade with an ease that frightened her nearly to death.

“Anyway,” Ava coughed, finally chancing a look in Sara’s direction, “we haven’t even gotten to start programming yet. I am dying to actually get my hands on some code.”

Sara snickered, “God, you big nerd. We’re here having a great time and you already want to get back to it, huh?”

Ava shook her head.

“ _ Yes _ , Sara, I really do.”

Ava attempted to narrow her eyes in resentment, but with Amaya’s words hanging over head, she couldn’t find the fire to light the flame; instead, she just looked at Sara lamely, an unabashed curiosity in her eyes. Sara’s greedy smile faltered, confused at the lack of bite in Ava’s retort. It was too plain. Too honest.

“Okay, okay,” Sara relented, throwing up her hands in mock defeat, “never take a lady from her code, right?”

Amaya giggled and Zari smirked. Ava smiled at them. Unlike Sara and her, she thought they were well-matched. Fire and ice, but in a way that suited them. A way that worked, just so. 

Looking at Sara, the faintest thought that maybe  _ they  _ could be something that just  _ worked _ flashed across her consciousness. That maybe if they gave each other a real chance, if she gave Sara a real chance…

She bit down on her lip hard, deafening the thought with the force of a iron hammer.

Second chances were the fairytales of romantic comedies, and this was not an office romance.

Romance.  _ Romance _ ? 

Was she kidding? Ava internally slapped herself for making the comparison. If anything, Sara Lance was on her way to becoming someone Ava would briefly acknowledge while walking around campus. But anything further than that? 

Really―it wasn’t like Sara was anything special. She wore sweatpants to work yesterday, for fuck’s sake. Like, her nose was sort of adorable, and her hair was  _ gorgeous _ , and maybe Ava had thought about how soft it might feel to run her fingers through―

Ava’s face was hot. What the fuck was she talking about? Did someone drug her?

“Ava? Did I hit your off switch or something?” Sara eyed her, laughing in confusion at Ava’s strange expression and momentary silence. Ava wanted to bite back, to say something scathing enough to shut Sara up for just a moment, but all she could hear was how light the name came off of Sara’s lips, how casual and unbothered.

“Ugh, I just didn’t―” Ava closed her eyes tightly for a moment, taking a step back, “sorry. I didn’t sleep well. Suitemates were, you  _ know _ .”

Zari and Amaya’s eyebrows shot up, looking at each other peculiarly. 

“Were people really smashing? I didn’t hear a thing,” Zari commented.

“Me neither, and I have ears like an owl,” Amaya corroborated, eyeing Ava with that same curiosity.

Ava internally accosted herself again. These people  _ were _ her suitemates. Of course they would catch that lie. She had to evacuate this situation as soon as humanly possible before she embarrassed herself further. 

“Eh, maybe it was coming from outside,” Ava suggested, laughing nervously, “it  _ is _ L.A., after all. You never know what people are up to in the bushes.”

“You can say that again sister,” Zari agreed, grinning; she wiggled her eyebrows at Sara, and Sara just shook her head.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the code-bot is right,” Sara admitted, again toeing the delicate line that the pair held. 

“I don’t consent to that nickname,” Ava rolled her eyes, “or any nickname, actually. I’m hardly okay with this being a first-name basis arrangement.”

“Oh my god, are you seventy?” Sara guffawed, “what should I call you, then? Coworker Sharpe? Miss Tight Ass?”

Ava’s hands turned to fists, mouth poised to reply with a far lower jab than she had been given.

“Alright, ladies―let’s just settle down before we say something we  _ regret _ ,” Zari interrupted before it was too late, giving Ava a pointed glare, “we’re here all summer, remember?  _ All _ summer.”

Ava jaw clenched, “yes. I am acutely aware of how much time I am going to be spending cleaning up after this one.”

Sara just blew out a sharp breath of air, disbelieving. The tension from before had returned with a vengeance. 

“ _ Anyway _ …” Zari broke the silence with a roll of her eyes. She was obviously not going to wade any deeper into that dynamic, “did y’all check out the boys on the other engineering team? One of them is sorta cute, you know, if you’re into that kind of thing.” 

Ava felt her nerves prick, the mention of  _ boys _ sending her into her usual internal panic. 

“Yeah, I saw ‘em,” Sara shrugged, gaze briefly flickering over to Ava for some unknown reason, almost as if she was checking her reaction, “Nate definitely has that boyish charm, but, eh, girls have really just been more my speed lately. Less chance of sexist nerd-boy baggage.”

Amaya laughed, looking at Nate from where he stood across the room in heated discussion with Ray Palmer, “Well, more for me, then?”

“Ew,” Zari rolled her eyes, “I meant for  _ them _ , Ames. None of that business in our room, please.”

“God, I’m so glad I have a single,” Ava groaned.

Sara’s lips turned slightly, eyebrows shooting up.

“And here I was thinking Ava Sharpe wasn’t  _ that typa girl _ ,” Sara quipped, looking at Ava with a dare in her eyes―something screaming  _ correct me _ ―and her voice heightened “hear ye hear ye local code boys, she’s got a single!”

Ava’s skin grew hot, the implicit assumption raising her anxiety to a fever-pitch. She clenched her jaw, a thousand thoughts and memories speeding through her head like film on fast forward. Most of all, she felt suddenly and acutely vulnerable; how dense was she she―that fucking  _ Sara Lance _ of all people felt like she was entitled to take jabs at Ava’s love life? 

But, instead of voicing that, Ava just seethed: “ _ Don’t. _ ”

Sara froze, eyes filling with something like guilt, something like  _ concern _ . Ava just looked away, facing Zari and Amaya.

“It was nice finally meeting you two. I’ll see you at the suite tonight, hm?” Ava smiled weakly before making an abrupt exit, speed walking away from the atrium as she felt tears prick at the edges of her eyes. 

She could faintly here Zari’s low chastising voice fall on Sara as she turned the exit into the closest bathroom, her body collapsing on the floor by the entrance. Her mind was racing, tears welling up in her eyes as her blood boiled. For fucks sake―why was she  _ crying?  _ Sara had no right making her this fucking upset―and over what? Over a stupid  _ comment _ ? Ava had to be bigger than this.

She let out a choked sob. She should be, but she wasn’t.

_ “I swear to God, Ava, I’m not even trying to intrude. But I just saw you texting this girl _ ―” _ her sister said, accusation ripe in her voice.  _

_ “You didn’t see anything, Gwen,” Ava panicked, suddenly sick with the feeling of everything she had worked towards falling through her fingertips, “and even if you did, you cannot tell Mom. You can never tell Mom, Gwen.” _

_ “Whatever,” Gwen relented, rolling her eyes, “she knows you’re not that type of girl.” _

Ava wiped her eye as she heard the bathroom door open slowly, expecting some random employee to walk in. 

“Ava?” Sara’s voice called weakly as she turned the corner, taking in the puffy-eyed girl as she sat with her knees up on the tiled floor. 

Ava’s lungs contracted as her eyes found Sara’s, an unmistakable sadness sitting in them.  

“What do you want?” Ava whispered harshly, voice thick with venom. 

“To…” Sara paused, completely lost, “to check on you. You ran off.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Ava responded, lowering her gaze to the floor. She shoved her fist past her waterline, trying desperately to hide tear streaks.

A beat passed and Sara came to Ava’s side on the floor, kneeling by her in a way that was uncomfortably too close for Ava’s liking. Still―even then, she knew her anger wasn’t completely Sara’s fault. It was easy to blame her, but she knew that was only a cop out. This anger was hers. These tears were hers.

But that didn’t mean she ever wanted Sara to see her shed them.

“I’m… I’m sorry if I was out of line,” Sara confessed, the apology falling haphazardly off her lips, “it’s just―it’s really  _ hard _ when you keep insisting on being a  _ complete _ bitch to me for _ no reason _ , literally none, when all I want to do is get this fucking project done, and maybe make a friend out of it―but,  _ fuck _ , Ava―”

Ava’s heart jumped. Did she just insinuate―

“You want to be my―my what? My friend?” Ava said too softly, looking at her in utter confusion, puzzles pieces of Sara Lance falling in disarray around her mind.

Sara rolled her eyes, but there was something missing there. She looked Ava in the eyes, biting her lip.

“No,” Sara deadpanned, and Ava opened her mouth to retort, but Sara quickly shut her up, “well not with  _ this _ version of you, fuck no. But I’d like to think there’s an Ava Sharpe under there that might be worth getting to know. Shit, you’re a fucking programming  _ genius,  _ Ava―I’d like to at least have you on linkedin when this is all over.”

Ava’s breath caught in her throat, the throbbing anger she had been holding seemingly dissipating from her chest. Did Sara just call her… a genius? She took in a breath.

“I might, under the right circumstances, accept your invitation to connect,” Ava joked, finally meeting Sara’s eyes. The air seemed to thin, the fog clearing. A truce. Sara smiled at her, lips tipping in something that looked genuine, looked  _ happy _ . Happy at  _ Ava _ .

“Good,” Sara affirmed, dusting off her knees as she shot up. She offered Ava her hand, “now take my hand, get up, and stop crying, okay?”

Ava eyed her hand with suspicion, but ultimately took it and let Sara raise her to eye-level. 

“Fuck―okay, whatever, yes,  _ deal _ ,” Ava finally agreed, breathless. Their hands remained connected, heat pressing into each other as their eyes reached a mutual understanding. Memories still burned the back of Ava’s mind―the hackathon, her sister, her family, her fragile dreams―but for a moment, it seemed to fall away. 

Maybe,  _ somehow _ , she could do friends, Ava reasoned. Friends out of necessity. Friends because the world forced them here. Friends because hating each other was exhausting, and they had bigger fish to fry.

The words tasted strange sitting on her tongue.  _ Friends _ with Sara Lance. 

Gavin seemed genuinely relieved to see them when they finally returned to the cubicle. It had been a little over two hours since they had been sent off to the social in the atrium, and he looked like he was on the brink of pulling his hair out. And Ava thought  _ she  _ was a workaholic.

“Finally!” he groaned, then bit his lip, “I mean―how was networking, hmm? Make friends?”

“Too many to count,” Sara boasted, plopping down in her usual chair as Ava followed from behind. Ava still felt awkward, the clip of Sara walking in on her little meltdown replaying over and over in her mind. She rolled her eyes. Whatever. She wouldn’t have had to excuse herself if Sara hadn’t hit a nerve like that,  _ anyways _ .

“Heard about some interesting projects,” Ava added, “nothing that rivals us, of course.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Gavin grinned, “speaking of that―it seems the work day is unfortunately nearing its close, so, you know what that means. Homework!”

Ava grimaced. This was  _ definitely _ not the day for  _ homework _ . She and Sara had reached a momentary truce, sure, but it wasn’t made of steel―more like tied together by string. Having to work on a project together, alone,  _ again _ , would only be a recipe for disaster. Or worse: having to actually talk about her feelings. Hell no.

“Can’t we just tackle it tomorrow?” Sara suggested, probably thinking the same thing Ava was.

Gavin looked appalled, “No,” he responded, surprisingly terse, “I really wish I could give you guys off-days, but this project requires your full commitment. Not just any old internship assures you a job as good as this one, ladies.”

He smiled, curt but still friendly. Ava and Sara shared a brief moment of solidarity, a fleeting look that said  _ who is this guy anyway _ ?

“Of course, Mr. Green,” Ava assured, standing to attention as she shoved her arms behind her back, “we’ll have the first half of the interface more than done by tomorrow. If we have to pull an all-nighter, we will.”

Ava bit her lip as she caught Sara’s open mouthed expression in her peripheral vision. Okay―so that  _ might _ have been over the top. But she had dreams to deliver on. Sleep was for the unemployed. 

“Now, see,  _ that _ is exactly what I like to hear!” Gavin cheered, patting Ava hard on the shoulder, “I will be seeing you tomorrow with half of that interface! Let me know if you need any concealer for those inevitable eyebags!”

Gavin gave them a cheery thumbs up before waving goodbye, walking briskly to his next meeting.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Sharpe?” Sara glared, “I don’t know about you, but I kind of need my eight hours to function. You know, as humans do.”

“And you’ll get them!” Ava insisted, glaring back, “once we’re both software engineers making salaries that can afford pills to make the need for sleep  _ disappear _ .”

Sara’s eyebrows shot up, a small laugh escaping her lips;

“So you  _ do  _ joke,” Sara teased, stepping into Ava’s personal space. Ava bristled. 

“I’m really only half joking,” Ava said lowly, eyes pouring back into Sara’s, “but you’re staying up. We need this. Well, I don’t know about you―but  _ I _ need this, Lance. I’m not disappointing Gavin.”

Sara shook her head, “God, you’re so dramatic. I’m sure you’ll doze off by 9PM.”

Ava stiffened, thoughts drifting back to the last time they had been required to stay up to finish a project. She remembered how Sara had taken all the fucking time in the world to nap, to slack off, to listen to some stupid inspirational  _ podcast _ .

“That’s truly bold of you,” Ava laughed dryly, picking up her backpack. Slinging it around her shoulder, she stuffed her hands in her pockets, holding down the bubbling anger. Second chances.  _ Friends _ . Now those were bold words.

Sara sensed the change in the air and sucked in a breath. There was still too much unsaid. Too much driving a wedge between the two. This wasn’t going to happen over night.

But everything starts somewhere.

“So, your place?” Sara changed the subject, her voice wavering a bit, “my roommate is really… annoying. And you  _ do _ have a single.”

Ava grimaced, remembering the sting of the joke from earlier. Even so, she shook it off, choosing to believe for the moment that Sara’s intentions weren’t  _ all _ terrible. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Ava shrugged. Her mind hung on Sara’s words, eyebrows raising at the thought that someone could really be annoying enough to drive Sara Lance to stay at her place. Must be some roommate.

Opening the door to her room, Ava suddenly felt a wave of insecurity wash over her. Her pupils dilated as she remembered the reality of her twin sized mattress, a space that fit her perfectly all at once becoming suffocatingly small. She really hadn’t thought this through―an  _ all nighter _ ? In her room? Sure, she knew  _ she _ could stay awake, but Sara? Sara would inevitably fall asleep, but where? On the floor? Ava wasn’t that much of an asshole. Oh god.

Sara Lance was going to sleep in her bed.

There was nothing she could do about this.

Why was her heart racing so  _ fucking fast _ ?

“You know, you’ve got some pretty nice digs,” Sara interrupted Ava’s mini-panic attack, “I like the salt lamp.”

Ava took in a sharp breath of air, centering herself, “oh,” she stuttered, “um, thanks. It was a gift.”

Sara raised her eyebrow suggestively, wiggling it harmlessly at Ava. Ava shook her head, momentarily forgetting her anxieties.

“A gift from my aunt, you perv,” Ava corrected, smiling when Sara couldn’t see her. Sara just laughed.

Ava stared at the wall, realizing something frightening―

For a moment just now, this had all felt easy.

“Let’s get to work,” Ava interjected awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable in the silence. Sara shrugged agreeably and took out her backpack. Ava sat on the head of the bed by her pillows, and to her surprise, Sara joined her, sitting noticeably closer than last time.

Almost as if she had read her mind (something that Ava felt happened uncomfortably frequently) Sara cleared her throat, announcing, “we’re going to have to sit close enough to see each other's screens if we’re going to collaborate.”

This did make sense.

At least, that’s what Ava told herself.

“So I’m thinking I’ll create a couple of interface classes, write up their functionality, and then you can implement them,” Sara brainstormed, eyes drilling into her screen in focus. Ava felt herself bristle at Sara’s unexpected direction.

“Oh, so who died and made you boss?” Ava questioned, raising an eyebrow―even though her words were pointed, her tone was light. She couldn’t seem to summon the anger anymore. She was too drained. 

(And, fuck, Sara was too close, their knees almost brushing―)

“Like you could make a better plan,” Sara challenged, capturing Ava’s eyes with a mischievous, fiery look, “or does Ava Sharpe just not like being ordered around?”

Sara’s voice had gone unexpectedly low, verging on husky, as she leaned into Ava’s personal space. Ava saw right through her―this was a game of chicken. Seeing through the facade didn’t stop Ava’s stomach from turning, from her skin from blushing with unforeseen warmth. She twisted her legs.

“I  _ don’t  _ take orders,” Ava replied, voice smooth, “but, whatever, we can do that. I like the dirty work.”

Sara bit her lip, obviously holding in a less than tasteful joke. Ava glared at her, daring her to let it loose. Sara swallowed it. 

Several minutes passed as the two worked idly, lost in their respective tasks. Unfortunately, Ava had conveniently forgotten what language they were working in, and was currently frowning at her screen as her browser exploded with google searches. Javascript was, for all intents and purposes,  _ not _ Java. Not even close. Why they were named similarly was completely lost on her.

Sara must have noticed the knot in her forehead, because she was soon interrupted by a hand knocking on her shoulder.

“You look like you’re planning a murder,” Sara whispered, biting down on a smile, “should I be concerned for my safety?”

Ava let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, laughing lightly. The pressure of Sara’s hand on her shoulder was annoyingly comforting, centering her back in her bedroom. 

“I…” Ava considered lying, but she figured there was no use; partnerships (even dumb ones) were based on trust, “I don’t know javascript.” 

Sara balked, mouth agape, “did I just hear that you―Ava Sharpe―don’t  _ know _ one of the most basic web scripting languages?”

Ava grimaced, feeling insecure under Sara’s intent gaze. Did Sara’s entire image of her just change?

Was she no longer worth getting to know? Not a  _ genius _ ?

“Thank fuck!” Sara laughed, hitting Ava’s shoulder playfully, “I feel so much better about the fact that I have no idea what C even is. I thought you were going to literally fight me when you found out.”

Ava’s eyes widened. She was…  _ happy _ about this? She took in Sara’s mile-wide smile, how she was looking at Ava in such relief. 

“I wouldn’t have  _ fought _ you,” Ava rolled her eyes, but smiled back at her, “but yeah, no, I don’t. I think web programming is boring. Who cares what a website looks like? It’s about what it can  _ do _ .”

“Ugh, back-end programmers,” Sara shook her head, “so boring. No zest.”

“We are plenty  _ zesty _ ,” Ava protested, grinning like a school-girl. She and Sara just started at each other for a second, dumb grins on their faces; Ava swore she saw Sara’s eyes dip, that look that she’d caught in a fleeting moment a few days ago returning to her face. She thought, in a way that was simultaneously passing and all-consuming, that Sara’s smile was beautiful.

Sara seemed to sense the spark in the air and licked her lips, now clearly gawking at Ava’s mouth. Ava’s heart went on vibrate, her mind going completely blank as she watched Sara in slow motion. 

“I’ll teach you, then,” Sara said slowly, finally dragging her eyes back up Ava’s face to meet her dilated pupils. Ava breathed in, hot and fast, and pulled back slightly from Sara. Her stomach was absolutely in her throat, her heartbeat throbbing.  _ Fuck _ . That was  _ not  _ okay―not even remotely fine. 

She cut herself off before her mind could analyze any further. It was just late. Sara only looked inviting because she was tired, just wanted something warm to be close to. 

It was a science, really. Hormones bouncing off of hormones.

“Please,” Ava responded weakly, voice sounding way more desperate than intended. She cleared her throat, blushing, “I mean, that would be… helpful, yeah. Don’t worry, I’m a fast learner.”

Sara couldn’t help but bite her lip at that, eyes making a final run past Ava’s blood red lips. 

“Yeah, I bet,” she said lightly, lips forming a tight smile. Whatever had just passed between them, Ava recognized that it would just have to settle, unacknowledged and unexplored. 

Not that anything had really transpired. For all Ava knew, nothing had.

Sara spent the next hour or so performing what she called the Sara Lance JavaScript Masterclass Crash Course, a title Ava had a hard time not being amused by. By the end of the hour―and just as the clock read eleven―Ava felt fairly confident. Confident enough to do what she needed to do, at least.

At ten past 3AM, Ava’s razor-sharp focus was rocked by the sensation of a body leaning on her arm, head falling limply on her shoulder. Ava inhaled, breath shaky as she felt Sara’s chest heave, breath slowly fall off her lips. Ava trembled―what was  _ she doing _ ? When in the fuck did they go from yelling at each other to  _ this _ ?

“Fuck―I am  _ so _ sleepy,” Sara whined, “I have no idea how you do it, Ava.”

The high pitch in Sara’s voice sent shivers down Ava’s spine; wow―that was  _ cute _ .

Sara was  _ cute _ .

At 3AM, her thoughts ran unfiltered like kids through a candy shop. Ava couldn’t stuff them in boxes, couldn’t shield herself from the reality of how the feeling of Sara’s breath felt on her neck. 

Shit―Sara was kind of cute.

And still a total asshole, but―

“You smell good,” Sara whispered softly, turning her head so her nose was pressed to Ava’s shoulder, “I want your shampoo.”

Ava was going to pass out. This was  _ not _ in the friendly teammate guidelines. This was not outlined in their momentary truce. Ava did not account for Sara being both enraging and also sweet, indignant but also kind of gorgeous.

Ava sucked in a lip, chewing on it to keep herself level-headed. This was 3AM talking. 

“I’m not selling you my shampoo,” Ava responded weakly, trying to return her focus to the screen. She typed another line of code. Then another. 

“You misspelled  _ update _ ,” Sara teased, stroking her finger over Ava’s screen where she had typed, letting her finger slide down the screen until it reached the bottom, falling haphazardly over Ava’s hand. Sara pressed down lightly, forcing the weight of their hands on the backspace button.  

Ava’s heartbeat picked up. Sara was not moving her hand. She stared at it, how it lay over Ava’s with no care in the world. Fuck. Sara was not moving her hand.

Ava didn’t, wasn’t sure if she―

Ava didn’t want her to, but―

This was still Sara Lance. This was not some girl she pulled off Tinder for some midnight fun. This was the ticket to her future, to her career, to her dream. And, again, as she reminded herself:

This was Sara  _ fucking  _ Lance.

Ava withdrew her hand abruptly, moving away. She couldn’t deal with this,  _ wouldn’t _ deal with this. She wasn’t going to let her dumb 3AM feelings make Sara think she was coming onto her, actively trying to  _ flirt  _ with her, even, not when they just started becoming something resembling friends. 

Sara was just touchy. Sara was just sleepy. She’s met girls like Sara. She knows girls like Sara. They just do, don’t think. 

The look of subtle hurt in Sara’s eyes makes her think otherwise, sends a brief pang of regret up Ava’s spine, but she doesn’t dwell on it. Things just look dramatic in the early morning.

Sara yawned, “I’ll… I’ll finish this function in a few minutes… I just gotta get a quick nap in. Wake me up in twenty, okay?” Sara squinted at Ava, trying to make her promise. Ava just smiled, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, just nap, dumbass,” Ava shook her head, giving Sara a shove. Sara smiled sleepily. 

Ava thought she would move.  

She didn’t.

This was worsened by the fact that Sara really  _ did _ fall asleep, almost instantly, too―and right into Ava’s lap. She slumped over, hair falling over her back as her face lay on Ava’s thighs. 

Ava looked down in utter disbelief, smiling softly despite her best efforts not to. A warmth spread in her chest, that familiar 4AM tug that told her to card her fingers through Sara’s hair, to feel how soft it might feel in her fingers, to maybe press a small kiss to the back of Sara’s head.

But Ava didn’t do any of that.

Instead, Ava programmed. She programmed. And she programmed. And she programmed.

And Sara slept, breath falling on Ava’s thigh―and the thick feeling of memory, of the tangible  _ irony _ , made the air hard for Ava to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh god this chapter took forever sorry lol i hope it was worth a week of waiting. i really went back and forth with some of the development here, so im eager to hear your thoughts. hope you enjoyed!


	4. beach days

Ava was not a beach person. It wasn’t really the beach that she hated, per se; it wasn’t the sun, or the water, or the public bathrooms―but the expectations that went along with it. The unendingly irritating idea of the perfect _beach_ _day._ Bikinis. Splashing around in the ocean for no reason. Getting sand in gross places. Avoiding children.

Ava shuttered. The only remotely tolerable beach activity wasn’t a beach activity at all: it was reading. More accurately, it was Ava wearing jeans and a ( _oh so scandalously,_ Sara joked) cropped t-shirt under an umbrella, with a book in her hand and noise-cancelling headphones drilled into her ears.

Now _that_ was a beach day.

“You have the hobbies of an elderly person, Ava,” Sara shook her head, watching Ava in disbelief as Ava tipped her sunglasses down to glare back at her, “like, you literally just read books and tap buttons on a keyboard all day. Actually, I take that back―my grandma gets up to some much cooler shit at the local poker club.”

Ava rolled her eyes, her pupils adjusting to the sun as she glanced towards Sara. _Shit_.

Not even the sun could overshadow the definition in Sara’s body, the muscle lining her bare middle, arms, and legs. Without a second thought, Ava raked her eyes over Sara’s bikini, checking her out so blatantly that parents might have had to shield their children’s eyes from the sight of it. She bit her lip.

This was definitely _not_ the way one looks at a work acquaintance.

And, gravely worse, this was definitely _not_ the way Ava was ever supposed to look at Sara Lance.

Her goddamn partner.

Ava sucked in her lip, reprimanding herself for even having the thought. Look―it wasn’t her fault Sara was attractive. Plenty of people were attractive. Sara could be as attractive as she wanted to; it didn’t mean Ava was going to make it her business.

Right.

Not her fucking business. Ava diverted her gaze.

“See something you like?” Sara raised an eyebrow. Ava’s cheeks burned. She could kill her.

“Yeah, the view of the ocean is great. I wish you’d get out of the way,” Ava deadpanned in return. Sara rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

This is why she hated beach days.

Why on earth Gavin had rationalized that going to _Muscle_ _Beach_ of all places would be the ideal destination for gathering data for their algorithm, she didn’t know. Really―coffee shops had just as many people going in and out than this glorified excuse for a public frat house. She could not fathom how the sort of conflict that occured here had any relation to the type of thing you’d run into in an Amazon shipment warehouse.

“So, Sharpe, you doing much observation from behind that dictionary?” Sara quipped, suddenly much closer than Ava had predicted. Sara was kneeling in the sand, elbow on the arm of Ava’s chair. Her hair was cascading into Ava’s lap, and Ava held in her breath. Sara was _so_ goddamn close. She swallowed.

If this was Sara’s idea of revenge, it was working.

“Did anyone ever teach you about personal space?” Ava bit back, a bit too reactionary. Sara’s eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting that reply. A brief glimpse of vulnerability flashed across her face, a clear internal debate ongoing in her head. Whatever conclusion she reached, it was unbeknownst to Ava.

“Must have skipped that class,” Sara frowned, clearly aggravated, and she pulled out of Ava’s space, “but who are you to judge? You clearly skipped the one on manners.”

Ava just laughed coldly, unable to come up with a good retort. She was too overwhelmed by how badly she missed their proximity, and how frustrated she was that she did.

Just as Sara opened her mouth to unleash what looked like the beginning of a longer argument, a child’s piercing screech cut her off.

Both of their gazes snapped to the right. Wriggling around in the sand was a clearly traumatized eight-year old. He was holding a tiny shovel and bubbling over with tears at the sight of his destroyed sandcastle. Ava bit her lip, frown deepening as she watched the unapologetic wave smother the castle again and again.

She took in a sharp breath, chest clenching. It brought back a memory.

Sara may have said something, but she didn’t care to hear it. She set her book down in her beach chair and made her way over to the flailing boy. His teenage babysitter didn’t seem to notice the tantrum, eyeballs stuck to an instagram feed. Ava puffed out a breath, joining the boy’s side.

“Why are you crying?” Ava asked softly, grabbing the boy’s attention. He seemed to finally notice her presence, wiping a tear from beneath his cheek.

“The ocean killed my sandcastle!” he cried, “I tried rebuilding it, but it just keeps killing it. It must not be strong enough. Why can’t I build a strong castle?”

Ava bit her lip, offering him a bittersweet smile. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sara watching her in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. She promptly ignored her.

“Hey, I don’t think that’s true at all,” Ava suggested, flashing him a real grin, “you’re not a bad builder. You’re just too close to the shore. How about we build an even stronger castle a little bit farther up?”

The boy looked at her with renewed hope, but his lip still quivered, “Really? We can build it somewhere the ocean can’t reach?”

Ava nodded, “Yep. And this sandcastle is going to be _so_ strong, too. So strong you could kick it in the side and it would still stay upright.”

The little boy’s eyes glowed, and the tears stopped flowing. Ava grinned, and she felt a part of herself heal at the sight.

She politely relayed her plan to the babysitter―who ignored her, which, seeing as Ava was a complete stranger, was absolutely terrifying―before leading the boy about two feet up from the coastline. She showed him how to carve a moat in the ground, distributing just the right amount of muddy sand to dry sand to create a solid structure. Together they built a three-story showstopper. Ava did most of the work, but she taught him enough about how to make a strong foundation for him to keep adding to it.

Stepping back from her work, Ava put her hands on her hips and grinned. There were _some_ beach activities she enjoyed.

Her face fell. Or used to enjoy, at least.

Before her mind could float farther back into her memories, she felt a hand hover delicately above the skin on her shoulder. It sent an immediate chill down Ava’s spine, and she snapped around. Sara was looking at her in awe, something unreadable in her eyes―was she… was she _impressed_?

“You’re secretly kind of an angel, aren’t you?” Sara joked, barely any sarcasm gracing the question. She just bit her lip, her face slightly tinged red. Ava balked, feeling her skin warm―an _angel_?

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about,” Ava rolled her eyes, taking a step away from Sara. Her foot accidentally lodged herself in one of the castle’s towers, and she grimaced. Shit.

“Miss Ava! Quick, get your foot out, I need to rebuild like you taught me!” the boy yelled. His voice was surprisingly light and excited, like suddenly the thought of rebuilding wasn’t sad but actually sort of fun. Ava couldn’t help but smile, even with Sara watching her from behind.

“Right!” Ava laughed, lifting her foot out. Sara grinned at her.

“So I guess you _do_ have some hobbies that get you off your feet,” Sara wiggled her eyebrows.

“Do you ever shut up?” Ava shook her head, hiding a smile as she headed back to the shelter of the beach umbrella.

“No, I really don’t,” Sara laughed. Ava snorted.

And there they were again―right where things felt easy.

“I’m just curious, is all. You said you hated beach days,” Sara prodded, relentless.

“That’s because I do,” Ava said, returning to her chair. She motioned to return to her book, but Sara grabbed it from her hands. Ava’s eyebrows shot up.

“What are you doing?” Ava asked, annoyed. She waved her hand at Sara to get the book back, but Sara swatted her hand away, giggling.

“Preventing you from being boring,” Sara teased, “c’mon, we’re at a _beach_ , tight-ass. Get in the water with me.”

The sincerity in Sara’s voice made Ava stop. She was starting to think that Sara really, _genuinely_ wanted to be her… friend.

Gross.

(Her heart fluttered anyway.)

Before Ava could answer, Sara took her arm and yanked her up to eye-level. For a fleeting moment, she felt Sara’s fingers flutter over hers, threatening to thread them together. But Sara paused, something hesitant in her expression; she just stood there, staring at Ava. Nevertheless, before Ava could say something stupid (or try to run away,) Sara looked away, dropping Ava’s wrist.

“Shit,” Sara murmured, looking at the red tint running up her arms, “I need to reapply.”

Ava looked down at her own skin. She hadn’t bothered to put on sunscreen since they arrived a few hours ago. She assumed she wouldn’t be seeing much UV rays from under her self-induced sun-cave.

Sara squatted down in the sand, pulling a container of sunscreen from her backpack. She ran it up the length of her arms and her legs, smothering herself as Ava attempted to look anywhere else.

“Ugh, I can’t reach,” Sara groaned, hands flailing as she tried and failed to lather her lower back. Ava’s eyebrows raised slightly. Sara better not fucking ask―

“Could you do my back?” Sara said, innocuous. Like she couldn’t care less who was running their hands up her spine. Like she didn’t think that it meant anything.

Because of course she didn’t. And she was right.

Ava took in a sharp breath. She just couldn’t reach. It wasn’t that deep.

It’s not that deep.

“Yeah, whatever,” Ava rolled her eyes.

She walked over to Sara and took the sunscreen out of her hands, squirting a good amount into her palm. She spent a few moments just staring at Sara’s back, embarrassingly frozen in space. The span of skin was so smooth, so lightly pink and dotted with small, curious scars. Without thinking, Ava glided her hand over the scar tissue, pressing down softly ( _too_ softly) and eliciting a slight twitch in Sara’s back.

“Sorry, they’re just sensitive,” Sara whispered, almost like a secret. Ava just hummed. She didn’t trust herself to form words.

Ava concentrated. She was just applying sunscreen, for fuck’s sake. She moved Sara’s hair aside, trying not to think about how insanely soft it felt under her fingers. Ava pressed both hands into Sara’s back, moving them in parallel up and down the lower back and across her spine. Her movements were methodical, searching systematically for forgotten sections and deepening her touch at the small of Sara’s back. She could feel Sara twitch again at the contact, an involuntary movement that sent shivers through Ava’s own body.

Did she like this?

  
Was she liking this?

Not thinking, she pressed further into the small of her back, her palm digging into her skin and prodding with her fingertips. Sara breathed in deeply, letting out a low, unsteady breath that Ava knew was masking something else. Ava’s skin heated, her stomach turning. She paused her movements.

What the fuck was she doing?

She retracted her hands like they’d been burned, reaching anxiously for a towel and rubbing off the excess sunscreen.

“Done,” she announced, voice shaky.

“I think you might have missed a few places,” Sara whined, turning to Ava with something in her eyes that she couldn’t read. Her tone was teasing, clearly trying to evoke their usual banter, but her gaze lingered a little bit too long, looked almost… sad.

Sad that it was over.

Ava filed that away in a cabinet in her brain and locked the drawer. Work acquaintances.

“You’re fine,” Ava returned, hitting Sara lightly on the shoulder, “stop complaining.”

“Whatever,” Sara rolled her eyes, “I’m like, _pale_ pale. I’m gonna blame you if I wake up looking like a hot chili pepper.”

Ava snorted, and Sara beamed at her; it was almost like she enjoyed the sound of her laugh.

“Whatever, go test my paint job. I’ll be over here with the final works of Jane Austen,” Ava said, falling back into her seat and grabbing her book from the sand. Sara looked appalled.

“What part of saving you from being boring did you not understand? I know Ava Sharpe can let her hair down. Seriously, it must hurt to wear that tight a bun all of the time,” Sara teased, gesturing towards Ava’s high-bun. Honestly, Sara wasn’t totally off. But beauty (or in Ava’s case, professionalism) is pain.

Ava rolled her eyes, but reached for the bun. _Whatever_ . If it got Sara off her ass for two minutes, it wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it _was_ the beach. She removed the bobby pin keeping it in and undid the knot, letting blonde waves cascade down her shoulders.

Sara looked visibly shocked as Ava ran her hands through her hair, straightening out the kinks.

“Wow,” Sara said, not hiding her obvious gawking, “if you had let your hair down at that hackathon, things might have ended _very_ differently for us that night.”

Ava’s mouth dropped open.

“I actually hate you,” Ava said, deeply serious. Sara bit her lip, a shit-eating grin plastered to her lips.

“And? What are you going to do about it?” Sara egged her on, raising an eyebrow. Ava was over this. She knew Sara’s game. Even if it was supposed to be light, airy, _fun_ , she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. Friends or not. Work acquaintances or _not_.

“Ignore you for the rest of the summer,” Ava answered, exasperated. She turned a page in her novel.

“Lying to yourself is a useful skill,” Sara smirked. Ava felt her stomach turn.

“Weren’t you going to go splash around or whatever?” Ava asked, eyes drilled to the page. This conversation was much easier to have without looking Sara in the eyes.

Sara just laughed.

“Nope, not without you,” Sara insisted, eyes narrowed. Ava’s chest rose―did Sara _really_ care that much about having her around? Sure, they weren’t outright malicious anymore, but Ava wouldn’t call this truce amicable.

Ava took in a breath. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind swimming with Sara. It wasn’t Sara that she was concerned about.

“You really don’t want to come, do you?” Sara said softly, something like vulnerability in her voice.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Ava stuttered, finally setting the book down with a huff, “I’m just―god, it’s really dumb.”

The look of genuine curiosity in Sara’s expression set something off in Ava; it made her suddenly feel naked, exposed.

“I bet it’s not dumb,” Sara bit her lip, looking at Ava with so much _warmth_. Ava’s chest tightened. She ran a hand through her hair anxiously.

“It really is, though. I just―I’m not really great at swimming. No one ever really taught me,” Ava whispered the second half, staring at her legs and shuffling her feet under the sand. She couldn’t stand the sympathy in Sara’s stare, the subtle _oh_ behind her eyes. She barely noticed as Sara came closer, settling in the sand by Ava’s chair.

“So there’s one thing Ava Sharpe’s not good at, huh?” Sara smirked, knowing when not to ask further questions. Ava licked her lips. That smirk set Ava’s stomach aflame, an unmistakable fire lighting in her. God, Sara might be an idiot most of the time, but sitting there, all _soft_ and sweet―

Ava gulped down a thought: Sara might not just be passingly attractive; she might be a good person, too.

Like a really sweet fucking person.

Fuck.

“I could teach you, you know,” Sara suggested, only the slightest bit of annoying innuendo in her tone, “I almost drowned as a kid. I’m basically your go-to girl to how not to die in the ocean.”

That certainly caught Ava’s attention, her eyes widening. _Drowned?_

“That’s um, _terrible_ , Sara,” Ava coughed, but Sara just waved her away, smiling.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” Sara cocked an eyebrow, flexing one of her arms obnoxiously. Despite herself, Ava laughed. Really laughed.

“Maybe,” Ava replied slowly, smiling as she mulled the idea over in her head, “but unfortunately for you, not today. Gavin said we had to be back by 3.”

Sara groaned audibly, checking her phone. It was already 2:35. They were all the way in Venice, too, so there was a ways to go back to Santa Monica. She glared at Ava.

“I’ll be taking this as a raincheck,” she said seriously. Ava just laughed.

“Whatever you say,” Ava smiled back.

The ride back to the office was breezy. The big blue bus was truly a lifesaver; Ava didn’t know how anyone actually had a car in L.A. The drivers were almost as bad as the traffic.

They made it back to the Aberration office at 3PM sharp, to Ava’s annoyance (she didn’t arrive on time to work, she arrived _early_.)

“If it isn’t my favorite ladies!” Gavin greeted as they walked into the ever-familiar workspace, “I hope you worked hard at the beach, hm?”

Sara snorted. Ava kept her smile tight, subdued as always.

“Of course, I’m sure there was… something gained from the field trip,” she reported, truthfully unsure what in all hell she was supposed to have come back with. She chanced a look at Sara, who seemed completely unbothered.

“I learned a lot, personally,” Sara boasted, falling into her favorite spinning office chair, “I think it gave me a new perspective on how to implement Gideon’s algorithm.”

Ava’s mouth dropped open―“um, what?” she squinted at Sara. Sara grinned back at her, and the sight made Ava’s chest hurt. God.

She’d unpack that later.

“Yeah, it was from watching you, actually,” Sara admitted, nonchalant. Ava’s nerves came alive, fire shooting up the back of her neck. _What_?

“You were watching me?” Ava asked slowly, more to herself than anyone else. Sara suddenly looked a bit shy, scratching at the back of her neck anxiously.

“When you were helping that boy, I mean,” Sara bit her lip, avoiding Ava’s gaze and instead focusing on Gavin, “I just think we’re coming at this whole thing from the wrong perspective―thinking that Gideon is going to simply help solve conflicts by providing solutions. I was thinking, wouldn’t it be much more human―and ultimately more helpful―if instead we designed it so that she acted not just as a solution generator, but instead worked to permanently change the way people think?”

Gavin’s eyes were alit, “genius. Absolutely genius, Sara. What do you mean by that?.”

Sara’s skin reddened, clearly not expecting the compliment, “oh―well. It was just, when I saw Ava help that kid… It’s like. This boy had a problem―his sandcastle fell apart―and he was trying everything within his eight-year old toolset to try and solve it. Which, of course, was useless, because eight-year olds know like zero problem solving techniques. But instead of Ava rebuilding the sandcastle for him, she taught him how to do it. And here’s the important thing―he didn’t even realize he was being taught. He just suddenly had a whole new outlook on a project that had seemed insurmountable before. What if Gideon worked like that? Helped change people for the better without them even really knowing it?”

Ava looked at Sara like she had just reinvented the wheel, her brain flooding with possibility.

It was then that it hit her, like a ton of bricks:

She had completely underestimated Sara Lance.

“That really _is_ genius, Sara,” Ava agreed, looking at Sara in barely disguised awe. Sara’s eyes widened even further hearing the compliment from Ava. She turned a deep red, looking down at her feet and fidgeting. She just shrugged.

“It’s just an idea,” Sara laughed lightly, “it’s all about the implementation. But thanks, I guess.”  

“And there you are wrong,” Gavin corrected, shaking his head, “implementation is easy. Good ideas. _Great_ ideas, are much harder.”

Ava snorted. She wasn’t sure she believed that philosophy, but she did believe in Sara.

Ava surprised herself with that thought, her heart rate picking up. When in the hell did _that_ become her philosophy?

“It’s funny, I really had no actual intentions when I sent you to the beach,” Gavin laughed, and Ava squinted at him; was he was some kind of maniac?

“Um, what?” Ava and Sara said in unison.

He shrugged, “I thought it would help your relationship.”

Ava balked, eyes wide; he said it like it was the most plain thing in the world, like all bosses just sent their interns on beach days to repair their rocky dynamics and settle their sexual tension.

Ava choked on air at her own thoughts. She had obviously drank too much coffee this morning.

“Well, it didn’t work, because Ava here refused to swim with me,” Sara pouted, crossing her arms. Ava just shook her hand, palm on her forehead.

“I’m sure Miss Sharpe had her reasons,” Gavin smiled knowingly, but quickly changed the subject, “so, as always, I have homework. I have to leave early for business, but I need you two to finish polishing the Gideon interface before work tomorrow. We have to get started on the actual algorithm to stay on schedule. Especially when you’re coming up with such incredible ideas!”

Ava frowned. That was total bullshit. He just liked giving them homework.

“Right,” she said, obedient as ever, “I’m sure Sara and I can handle it.”

“Duh,” Sara added, flashing her a smirk. Ava ignored her.

“Great! Then you’re off early girls. The other interns should be out as well, so please say hello to dear Amaya for me, she is such a sweetheart. Zari, too,” he grinned, and picked up his suitcase, making a brisk (and ever typical) exit from the room.

“That man is a lot,” Ava deadpanned when he was out of earshot.

Sara snorted, surprised at Ava for making such a comment at work.

“Nah, he’s chill,” Sara joked, earning her a glare, “maybe a little sadistic, but that’s Silicon Valley.”

“You’re not wrong,” Ava relented, giving her the smallest smile, “so, your place or mine?”

Sara’s eyebrows shot up, an incredulous smirk sitting high on her cheekbones. Ava groaned loudly. _NOT_ what she meant. She slapped herself internally.

“Shut up,” she insisted, pointing a finger at Sara, “we’re already on thin ice, Lance.”

Sara shrugged, trying and failing to keep in a laugh.

“Okay, okay,” she complied, slapping Ava lightly on the shoulder, “but, for a matter of fact, we will be going to _yours_ again. Because Amaya and Zari are having a party, and we’re going.”

Ava’s eyebrows shot up, and her nerves pricked. A party? Ava _really_ didn’t do parties. More than she didn’t do the beach. More than she didn’t do _networking_. Her skin crawled. The whole idea was an anxious nightmare; the small talk, the casual banter with drunk people you didn’t know, the random men leaning on your shoulder and feeling up your ass. Ava would honestly prefer drowning.

Oof. Maybe not the joke to make today.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Ava shook her head, but a part of her knew that this wasn’t optional. The look in Sara’s eyes meant business, and Ava knew that her will to say no to her was becoming harder and harder to access.

“Cute of you to think we’re not going,” Sara grinned, quirking an obnoxious eyebrow at Ava, “because I am _not_ finishing that UI sober.”

Ava’s throat went dry. Oh yeah, _alcohol_.

See―okay―this might be mainly why Ava didn’t party.

Because Ava was anxious sober. But Ava was _stupid_ drunk.

She gulped. She didn’t trust herself to be _drunk_ around Sara. Not even tipsy.

But―Ava rolled her eyes. She was overreacting. Sara and her were just now bordering friends; it wasn’t like any of this fake flirting was serious. Sara was just like this. Hey―maybe being drunk with her would let Ava loosen up a bit more, forget all the reasons why she was supposed to hate her. Why they were supposed to hate each other.

Maybe it would be good for them.

Ava inhaled; good for their partnership, she meant.

“In that case, you’re not going anywhere near our program tonight,” Ava squinted back, and Sara giggled.

“Shut up, you’re not getting custody,” Sara hit Ava’s shoulder again―something that had become almost habit, Ava had noticed― “she’s _our_ baby, Sharpe.”

Ava shook her head and looked away. Oh god―

―so, yeah. This would be _fine._

  


Well, it _was_ fine. Until―

Ride Wit Me by Nelly was the soundtrack to Ava’s demise.

“Oh why must I feel this way?” Sara yell-singed at Ava, grinning like a drunk idiot (she was).

“Hey, _must be the money_!” Ava sang back, smiling like she just took her fifth shot of tequila (she did).

Sara shimmied closer, closing the distance between them on the makeshift dance floor. The room was insanely tiny, but Zari, Amaya, Nate and Ray had all managed to vacate at the exact same moment as Nelly had graced the soundwaves, running downstairs to pick up their UberEats order. Ava really hadn’t intended on getting this drunk, but she figured it was either that or be painfully sober, so―

 _Fuck_ ―Sara’s hand was... in her hair?

“God, I love your hair,” Sara slurred, playing with the ends of it. Ava gasped shallowly, registering Sara’s left hand in her hair, her right holding steady to Ava’s shoulder. Sara was so close they were breathing the same air, and Ava wanted nothing more to run her thumb over Sara’s lips, lean in and feel how soft they were. She cringed at the thought, at herself for _having_ it, for _letting_ herself have it―

Sara didn’t like her like that.

More importantly, she didn’t like _Sara_ like that. Things didn’t just work like that, weren’t easy like that.

“You do?” was all Ava managed to get out, clearing her throat and attempting to purge her mind of all the alcohol-motivated thoughts that rippled through.

“Yeah, it’s _everything_ ,” Sara grinned, finally letting go of the strand to meet Ava’s eyes. Sara moved her body infinitesimally closer to hers, swaying with the music while still keeping her hand on Ava’s shoulder.

Ava rolled her eyes, trying to keep her cool despite Sara’s increasing closeness, “you’re just trying to play nice.”

Sara frowned adorably, and Ava had to bite her lip not to tell her as much.

“I’m _not_ ,” she said, hitting Ava’s shoulder, “I’m just trying to be your _friend_ , Ava. Why won’t you let me be your goddamn friend?”

Ava’s eyes softened, her heart filling to the brim― _oh_.

“I, um,” Ava looked down for a moment, the alcohol making her dizzy, but she finally caught Sara’s eyes, “I really don’t mean to, actually. I―I actually would like that. Like, a lot.”

Fuck. Did she just say that… _outloud_?

Sara grinned bigger than Ava had ever seen her grin, that special sort of way that really reached her eyes. To Ava’s surprise, Sara wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in forcefully and placing her head in the crook of Ava’s neck.

“I fucking _knew_ it,” Sara giggled against Ava’s chest. Ava hoped Sara couldn’t hear how hard her heart was beating.

“You did?” Ava said softly, a part of her breaking as Sara pulled away. She loved how Sara felt wrapped around her, her arms caressing her back. She wanted her close so badly, wanted her to stay that way. Without thinking, she grabbed Sara’s hand as she broke the contact, and Sara’s eyebrows raised.

Ava broke out of the trance almost immediately, dropping Sara’s hand and fighting the flush on her cheeks.

“I, um, don’t know why I did that,” she laughed lightly, running a hand through her hair, “must be the tequila.”

Sara just shook her head, reaching out and grabbing the hand that ran  anxiously through Ava’s hair. She held it delicately, stepping back into Ava’s space so close that their noses almost touched. Sara bit her lip, leading Ava’s hand down through her hair. Ava felt like she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, her whole body alive as Sara ran her palm from Ava’s hand and back up her forearm, eventually stopping at the back of Ava’s neck.

Ava shivered as Sara moved her hand downward, pressing in on Ava’s back and guiding her towards her. Sara leaned in, but not quite completely, her lips pressing down delicately on Ava’s cheek. Ava just stood there, silent, everything feeling as if it was slow motion; her body burned, Sara’s lips drilling into her skin. God, she wanted nothing more than to turn so slightly―

“I’m really glad, Ava,” Sara whispered against Ava’s skin, “I’m… glad we’re partners.”

Ava sucked in a breath, not trusting herself to speak. Before she could, Sara’s lips dragged across her skin again, pressing down a second time on her cheek, just centimeters from her lips.

“I’m _really_ glad…” Sara whispered again, words tickling Ava’s skin―god it felt so good, Sara’s hands dragging across Ava’s lower back, dipping _so_ low, fuck, almost―“that you don’t hate me anymore.”

Sara pressed a final kiss to her cheek, pulling back ever so slightly to meet Ava’s eyes; Ava poured into them, something so overwhelming soft and genuine stirring there. Sara just smiled at her, goofy, _happy_.

“Shit―yeah, Sara, me… me too,” Ava stuttered, unable to form a complete sentence. She tried to even her breathing.

Something seemed to shift in Sara’s eyes, and she opened her mouth to say something more, but the door whisked open, double-decker pizza boxes thrust inside by the hands of Nate and Ray.

“Y’all ready to eat?” they grinned.

Ava and Sara looked at each other, a mutual moment of agreement passing again―

Friends. They were friends.

Ava smiled, shoving down the burning sensation in her lower stomach, the butterflies that threatened to rupture.

Friends.

She bit her lip, and flashed Sara a real, unapologetic smile. Sara gave her the same, and knocked their shoulders together.

It wasn’t just the alcohol, no―it was something else. Something easy.

Ava felt her stomach dip, a feeling of warmth overwhelming her right down to her skin and bones; it was something _too_ easy.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the wait guys!!! the work load got heavy this month. i hope this chapter makes up for it. can you believe how dense ava is tho? god she needs a WHOLE NAP. i love her so much.


	5. friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Ava wake up together in the aftermath of last night's party -- now officially "friends", right?

Waking up for most people is a slow sort of thing. It comes in waves, with eyes drooping open, a shallow breath, arms stretched over your torso, check your phone, hit snooze.

This was not the case for Ava Sharpe. Ava had alarms―four of them, fifteen minutes apart―and they rang out each morning like clockwork. Ava didn’t really _need_ alarms (she always woke up ten minutes before her first one) but really, she just liked the rhythm of it. The schedule. Her alarms were like a metronome: at 7:15, she got out of bed, by 7:30, she had washed her face and done her makeup, by 45, she was dressed and had brushed out the last remaining kink in her hair, pulled it up and tied it back. The routine was methodical and perfect and reliable.

Which was why the absence of it felt like an earthquake as the clock ticked 7:25; Ava’s eyes shot open with an urgency, residual clouds of alcohol still swimming inside her head as her eyes drilled into the digital clock on her bedside table. Her heart pounded. She was late. Well, she wasn’t late _yet_ , but she was late in advance―

She moved to get out of bed, but quickly realized that her anxiety had completely delayed recognizing the firm presence on her chest, the arm hugging her middle, the soft hand clutching at the material directly under her breast.

 _Oh fuck_. Ava’s eyes shot open as she failed to steady her heartbeat. She looked to her side and confirmed her worst fears. Sara was hugging her, cuddling her.

In _bed_ . In _Ava’s_ bed.

She closed her eyes, taking in a breath. She hated herself for how perfect it felt. She risked a peek at Sara’s closed eyes, her slightly parted lips; she hated herself for how much she wanted to stroke Sara’s perfectly tousled hair, how much she wanted to press a kiss to her temple, to lay her arm over Sara’s and pull her in even closer so they’d be nearly face to face.

Oh, god―and suddenly this was _real_ . Ava licked her lips. She hadn’t moved an inch, but she felt like she was falling. She was frozen, alarms be damned, a prisoner of her own realizations. She liked Sara, like _really_ liked Sara.

Sara, Jesus Christ, _why her_ ―Sara _Lance._

“I can hear you thinking again,” Sara whispered into her side. Ava’s eyes snapped to face her. Sara’s eyelids had fluttered open, and she was smiling ever so slightly into Ava’s t-shirt. Ava’s heart pounded; Sara wasn’t moving, wasn’t making an effort to move. Was this what Sara did with all of her friends? Is this how they woke up in the morning?

“And what did you hear?” Ava asked, biting her lip sheepishly.

“Something along the lines of _oh my god I’m late I’m late I’m late_ ,” Sara mocked, grinning wide as she re-positioned herself to get a better look at Ava. Ava’s skin burned as she felt Sara shimmy up her side, her body moving smoothly against Ava’s thigh as she tucked herself further into her.

“Well, we _will be_ if we don’t get moving in the next ten seconds,” Ava argued, giving Sara a pointed glare that she hoped hid how flustered she was by the feeling of Sara’s leg draped over hers under the covers. Sara just shook her head, groaning as she buried her head again into the side of Ava’s shirt.

“Ava, this is _Los Angeles_ , idiot. Summer Thursdays, remember? We don’t have to come in until eleven,” Sara returned, peeking up from Ava’s shirt and looking her straight in the eyes, attempting to be intimidating. Ava couldn’t help but bite down a grin. She was struck by how small Sara looked, tucked into her like this, her face pressed down into Ava’s nightshirt. Almost like a little kid. God, it was so insanely…

  
Adorable.

Ava wanted to throw herself off a cliff.

“You think Gavin actually follows that dumb policy? He’d rather die than waste valuable work time,” Ava said, “then again, he did send us to muscle beach for literally _no reason_ the other day, so…”

“I can definitely agree that he is a weird, weird man,” Sara chuckled, and Ava laughed back, “and his son, jesus, Gary is even _weirder_ , if that’s possible. Oh, and he definitely has a thing for you.”

Ava’s cheeks heated up, and she again became acutely aware of just how close their bodies were, smushed together under the sheets.

“No he doesn’t,” Ava rolled her eyes, “he’s just obsessed with my junior thesis, or something. Whatever. I don’t get men.”

At that, Sara’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. Ava could see a thought pass there, a daring _oh,_ _is that so?_ that lingered in her dilated pupils. Ava bit her lip, instantly regretting the comment.

“Oh my god, _Ava_ , that boy is so head over heels. Your skull must really be that thick,” Sara joked, moving her hand and knocking playfully on Ava’s forehead. Ava rolled her eyes again, but her skin felt hot. A week ago, that comment probably would have set her off, would have launched into her another angry tirade. Now all it did was make her fall harder.

 _Fall_ ? Ava winced. She wasn’t _falling_ for Sara. Shit wasn’t that deep.

Ava’s internal commentary was cut off suddenly by the feeling of Sara’s hand skating down her cheek, moving a hair from out of her eyes and behind her ear. Sara looked suddenly sheepish, a red tint finding its way to her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Ava prodded. The way Sara had looked at her just then had instantly reminded her of the night before, of Sara’s hands in her hair, of her lips on her cheek, the quiet declaration of friendship they shared.

“Sorry if I was a lot last night,” Sara laughed uncomfortably, retracting her hand in a sort of guilty memory, “I’m really… touchy when I’m drunk. You know.”

Almost as if that had flipped a switch, Sara curled into herself, taking a step back from Ava’s under the covers so her body was barely on the twin mattress. Ava felt her heart drop, missing the contact so powerfully that it made her breathing momentarily stop.

“You were fine, Sara,” Ava rolled her eyes, confused and unable to process the sudden change in the girl beside her. Sara just shrugged, rolling out of bed and checking her phone. Ava swallowed, doing the same as she promised herself that she could go the rest of the summer without thinking about, well―

Any of this.

“Shit,” Sara whispered. Ava barely registered Sara cursing under her breath as she heard the girl’s phone drop to the ground. Ava whipped around, facing Sara’s back as she watched her hands tremble, watched her fumble to pick the phone back up from the ground. Ava frowned, suddenly overcome with worry. Was it something she did? Did she cross a line?

Ava’s eyes bulged. Could Sara actually hear her thoughts?

“What is it?” Ava asked nervously.

“Nothing. Fuck―I just―I have to go. I don’t think I can come to work today. Can you tell Gavin? I’m sorry, I know this is sudden,” Sara mumbled in a rush, hands wringing through her hair, smoothing waves down anxiously. The words hit Ava like whiplash.

“Um, what? You’re obviously not okay, Sara. Do you need something? I can take the day off, too,” Ava offered, overwhelmed with worry. Sara still hadn’t turned around.

Wait―did she just offer to take off work?

Dear God. Ava needed to stomp this out _now_.

“No, Ava, just―just go to work. I’ll text you later, okay?” Sara insisted, collecting her things from beside Ava’s bed and throwing them carelessly into her backpack. Ava just watched.

“Sara…” Ava said, utterly confused. Her mouth hung open, unsure of what to do or say as Sara slung her backpack around her shoulder and moved to leave.

“Don’t worry about me,” Sara smiled limply, biting her lip as she took a final look at Ava. She leaned down suddenly, hooking her arm behind Ava’s neck and pressing her lips to the side of Ava’s cheek, firm and decisive.

“F-fine,” Ava coughed out as Sara let go, the ghost of the kiss burning a hole in the side of Ava’s face. Sara darted out, closing the door lightly behind her.

Sara just kissed her goodbye.

(On the cheek, but―)

Friends do that, right?

It wasn’t until a bird flew straight into her window that Ava realized she had been staring into space for the better part of ten minutes, her hand cupping the cheek that Sara had kissed.

Ava truly wasn’t used to any level of physical intimacy. _Much_ less with girls that she would consider her friends. Figuring out she was gay at a young age had always given Ava quite a complex with the whole “touching” thing―a residual middle school fear that even sitting side-by-side with another girl might count as coming onto her. But Sara made her feel so… comfortable. Like she wanted her close, like she wanted to see how long they could just sit, bodies pressed against each other, foreheads nearly touching. She almost felt okay with the thought that she wanted to stroke Sara’s hair, or cup her cheek, or lazily plant kisses down her neck…

Christ. They had just come to the conclusion that they were _friends_. Ava groaned, falling flat on her bed. The newfound politics of this relationship were making her dizzy.

Not to mention that Sara was, um, gone. Ran out so fast it was like she was never here. Really, what the fuck was that? Ava would never have said this a month ago, but skipping work really wasn’t like Sara. Her work ethic was strong; maybe not _Ava Sharpe_ strong, but it was certainly there. Sara cared just as much as she did, even if she didn’t exactly have the same ways of showing it.

“Ava? You in there?” Amaya called from outside Ava’s door. Ava’s eyes shot open.

“Yeah, come in!” She called back.

Amaya fiddled politely with the knob for a bit before pushing the door open gently. She was standing there with Zari, both with heavy (but adorable) bedhead.

“You look pretty dandy for someone who threw up four hours ago,” Zari teased. Ava rolled her eyes. She had almost forgotten about her hangover.

“One perk of having generalized anxiety―everything feels bad all the time, so what’s a little nausea?” Ava shrugged, smiling. Zari snorted at that.

“You’ve got me there, sister,” Zari giggled. Amaya grinned, happy to finally see Ava taking things a little less seriously.

“We just wanted to check in. We heard someone storm out a few minutes ago, do you know what that was about?” Amaya asked, eyebrow raised. Ava laughed to herself internally. Amaya was sneakily the nosiest intern out of all of them, although she’d never admit it.

“I do, unfortunately,” Ava rolled her eyes, “that was Sara. She was doing just fine until she got some sort of text―don’t know from who. She told me she couldn’t make it work today then ran out of here faster than I could blink.”

Zari and Amaya shared a look. Ava looked at them, confused.

“Has Sara told you much about her roommate?” Amaya prodded.

“I mean, not much,” Ava recalled, “Although Sara never lets us do our homework at her place. She must be some piece of work. I can’t imagine what kind of person it takes to make Sara Lance go running.”

“Easy answer: crazy godmother,” Zari replied, “Sara was a late recipient for the internship so she missed out on the housing stipend. Her homophobic mother has her living with her equally homophobic godmother. Talk about the roommate from hell.”

Ava’s stomach dropped, an onslaught of guilt running up her spine. Sara’s had to live with _that_ this entire time?

“What?” Ava’s voice cracked, “that’s… that’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” Amaya whispered, offering Ava a calming smile, “but it’s alright. She’s handled it her whole life. I’m sure she’ll be back in the office by tomorrow.”

Ava gulped. She hoped so, or else she wasn’t sure what she’d do. As much as she hated herself for thinking it, Sara had become an indispensable part of her job at Aberration. Sara was smart, and talented (and _gorgeous_ , but that’s besides the point.) She made the long hours feel so easy.

“Yeah,” Ava responded weakly, “I can’t have her slacking.”

“Never,” Zari laughed, “anyway, _I_ have an episode of Wynonna Earp to watch, so I will be getting back to that.”

“Wynonna Earp? Really? That show is just terrible, Z,” Amaya groaned, turning away from the door and towards their room.

“Your favorite show is Downton Abbey, Amaya, so you have absolutely no say in this,” Zari groaned as she slammed the door to their bedroom. Ava grinned to herself, her heart warm. _Idiots_.

Just as she had predicted, work wasn’t the same without Sara. In fact, it was terrible. Like actually terrible. With only her to pick on, Gavin turned from mother hen to real life Dance Mom, orbiting around her workspace like his only job was to watch her from behind his stupid Google Glasses.

“I think you could implement this more efficiently,” he advised, staring at Ava’s laptop from behind her shoulder. Ava bristled. This was the fifth piece of advice he’d given in the last twenty minutes.

Her eyes scanned the code. There was literally nothing she could improve. _Bitch where?_

“I’m sure there is,” Ava gritted, highlighting a function and deleting it. At least starting from scratch means she was doing _something._

Thirty minutes passed and Ava was finally starting to get some peace. Gavin had decided to shovel his afternoon responsibilities onto Gary, opting to get his “macha fix” at the local indie-Starbucks and leaving Gary as her de-facto boss. Having Gary as a boss was a lot quieter, but it did raise its own... unique problems.

“What shampoo do you use?” Gary wondered aloud, staring at Ava from his seat in Gavin’s chair.

“Paul Mitchell,” Ava answered impatiently. She was at a breakthrough with her code, just a few more lines and―

Wait―um.

Ava slowly turned around in her seat, “why do you need to know, Gary?”

Gary’s face turned bright pink, “oh, it’s just so pleasant, is all. I was hoping to buy my own bottle.”

Ava stared him straight in the eyes, truly at a loss for words.

“I―whatever. It’s always on sale at Bath and Bodyworks. Go nuts.”

Ava instinctively turned to where Sara always sat, ready to flash her a dumb grin that said _okay maybe you might be a little right_. Her stomach dropped when she remembered that it was empty. Ava worried her lip, looking at her phone. The work day was almost over, and it was taking everything in her not to send Sara a text.

“Gary, what did I say about online shopping on my work computer?” Gavin stampeded in, rolling his eyes, “Ava, you’re done honey. Go get some rest, I can see the hangover in your under eye bags.”

Ava’s mouth hung open, ready to protest, but Gavin quickly waved her off.

“Go, go, and make sure your partner in crime gets her ass to work tomorrow. No excuses.”

Ava nodded obediently and walked out, mind replaying _partner in crime_ on loop as she made a beeline for the office exit.

_New Message: Sara Lance (1)_

_…_

_Sara Lance (2)_

_Sara  Lance (3)_

The walk home had felt especially long that day. Ava groaned as she dropped her bag to the floor of her bedroom, desperate to see what was causing her phone to buzz incessantly.

She froze as she looked at the contact ID. Her heart fluttered, anxiety prickling every nerve on her body. She couldn’t help the dumb smile that rose all the way to her eyes at the name.

_Sara Lance_

_Sara Lance (5:15PM) : hey i hope work was ok today_

_..._

_Sara Lance (5:18PM) : i mean i’m sure it wasn’t because gavin turns into an actual soccer mom whenever one of us is getting a coffee or taking a piss_

_Sara Lance: its like he truly believes we’re always one line of code away from ending poverty or something_

_Sara Lance: i mean that’d be cool but_

_Sara Lance: we’re like 20_

_..._

_Sara Lance (5:30PM): anyway uh sorry for how weird this morning was I just had something come up_

_Sara Lance: see you at work tomorrow yeah?_

Ava blew out a breath, fingers hovering anxiously over the keyboard. So. They texted now. Okay.

_Ava Sharpe: speak for yourself_

_Ava Sharpe: i am always one line of code away from ending poverty_

_Ava Sharpe: anyway i hope everything is okay. you can always talk to me if you need to_

_Ava Sharpe: or don’t, not talking about your feelings is a great free alternative to coping_

_Ava Sharpe: that was a joke_

_Ava Sharpe:  anyway um feel better sara. see you at work tomorrow, for sure._

Ava let her phone drop to the ground, unwilling to reflect on her terrible idea of a joke. She groaned audibly.

Dear god, this was not her forte at _all_.

Her phone buzzed again, and she resisted for about .02 seconds before snatching it again. No willpower at all, Christ.

_Sara Lance_

_Sara Lance_ : _ew, feelings? i don’t have those._

_Sara Lance: lol_

_Sara Lance: im kidding (no im not) but thanks… ill keep it in mind._

_Sara Lance: also um last night was really fun._

_Sara Lance: i hope you had as much fun as i did_

_Sara Lance: or whatever, your loss._

_Sara Lance: hehe_

_Sara Lance: alright i need to take an actual laxative after the Chipotle I just ate. Night, Aves._

 

_Sara Lance exited the chat._

 

Ava combed her hands through her hair, running her fingers through it as she dug her chin into her hand and closed her eyes, breathing shallowly through a giant, dopey smile.

She would never, truly _never_ forgive herself for how much she wanted to kiss someone who just told her that she needed to take a before-bed laxative.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your patience!! i'm really excited to start heating up things with a new arc for this fic, exploring sara and ava's pasts.. them confiding in each other... more work shenanigans... shit's gonna get so real, guys!


	6. roommates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back in business baby!!!! enjoy!!

Sara and Ava texted now.

Yes, she knows, in 2019, this should be less than notable. But for Ava, it was a revelation―for one, she did not text. This was a tenant of her personality, something her school friends seriously begrudged her for―

_“Ava, how the fuck are we supposed to talk to you during the summer?” Trinity groaned, “the longest reply I’ve gotten from you since I met you has been a gif.”_

_“Find a carrier pigeon,” Ava smirked._

_“You know I don’t fuck with birds,” Trinity narrowed her eyebrows._

_“Or, you could just, I don’t know, call?” Ava suggested. Trinity laughed._

_“God, sometimes I really think you got dropped here from another period. We’re talking prehistoric.”_

_Ava just shrugged. What was the point? They’d see each other next year._

So yeah. She didn’t text. Short replies, directions, confirmations, sure. But conversations? Long, serious paragraphs? Discussion of fast food, cats vs. dogs, and climate change? Not what Ava was used to. Like, and let her repeat this, _at all_ ―

Sara Lance: ava im actually gonna end it if i have to be in this house for one more second

Sara Lance: ava im serious

Sara Lance: ava im going to literally die

Ava bit her lip, holding back a laugh. Oh, yeah, she forgot to mention―

Texting under her desk at work?

Now to Ava Sharpe, that was basically a sin. But here she was, a sinner.

“Miss Lance must be some comedian,” Gavin bellowed over shoulder. Ava jumped, eyes bulging as her phone clattered to the floor under her desk. Gavin was eyeing her with a _this-won’t-do_ smirk that meant business, or murder, or maybe both. She inhaled sharply, words stuck in her throat.

“You know, Ava, I’ve come to the conclusion that we have a real problem,” he began, falling into the chair next to her and closing her laptop with a thud. Her heart jumped. _Shit. This was it. She was done for, fired._

“We do, Mr. Green?” Ava questioned, maintaining a tight-lipped smile.

“Yes. It appears that Miss Lance’s absence is truly impeding our operation. It’s been two days without her and you’re a mess, I’m a mess, Gideon’s a mess, oh even _Gary’s_ a mess. But, well, I guess that isn’t unusual,” Gavin pondered aloud, staring intently at the pencil he had begun to twirl.

Ava swallowed, throat dry. He wasn’t wrong. She had expected Sara in this morning, but she hadn’t come. Apparently things at home had her tied up. What those things were, Ava had no idea. Sara was being purposefully vague.

(Any other day she’d call it _annoyingly_ vague. But truthfully, Ava was just worried.)

“I―I’m very sorry, sir, I―” Ava coughed, trying to regain her composure, “I will get back on task immediately, you have my word.”

Gavin finally tore his eyes away from the twirling utensil and smiled at Ava―that shallow, worried sort of smile that always precedes bad news.

“Sorry won’t cut it, dear,” he smiled softly, “this is Aberration! We make _shit happen!_ So that’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go get Sara, bring her back here, and then we’ll be all set! Problem solved! Or, well, I’ll have to let her go. Company rules and all, wouldn’t want that though.”

Ava was shell-shocked. _Let go?_

Fired. Gone.

“I―I’m going to go _get_ her?” Ava repeated, laughing airily in a way only someone in shock could. Gavin grinned―really grinned, now, in a way that reached his eyes and nearly his forehead―and hit her hard on the shoulder, bouncing up from his chair.

“Precisely! Now get hunting!” Gavin laughed, and exited the cubicle in the same way he entered: gleefully, and with no warning at all.

Ava looked down at her phone, and then at her laptop, and then out the window. It occurred to her, then, that she was getting paid fifty dollars an hour to do the bidding of a maniac. Oh, and code―sometimes. She shook her head.

This was Silicon Valley, after all, what should she have expected?

Ava Sharpe: hey sara. so funny story.

Ava Sharpe: what are you doing right now?

Sara Lance: well wouldn’t you like to know ;)

Ava Sharpe: oh my god, not like that!

Ava Sharpe: like, are you free?

Sara Lance: thank u for asking i’m actually chained to the floor.

there is a rope tying my ankles to the heater and

there’s a giant metal paperweight slowly crushing my skull.

Ava Sharpe: oh my god sara what??? are you serious???? should I call the police?

Ava Sharpe: i’m literally going to dial 911 what the fuck

Sara Lance: OMG AVA NO I WAS K IDNGDING

Sara Lance: KDIDING I WAS KIDDING

Sara Lance: pls dont call the police LMAOOOO i’m just in my bed eating hot cheetos fr.

Ava Sharpe: omg sara i hate you so much right now

Ava Sharpe: i can’t believe i’m going to save you from getting fired

  
  


Sara Lance: wait um Ava you’re going to what?

Sara Lance: i’m getting

 _Sent with fireworks_ Sara Lance: fired??????? !???

Ava: this is actually so dumb. I’m calling you.

“Sara?”

Ava’s nose crinkled as she heard a series of loud bangs followed by a grunt, the sound of a crinkling plastic bag (presumably of flaming hot cheetos), and a door slamming shut.

“Ava! How is my favorite intern partner coworker _queen_ who I would definitely save from being fired if I was in her reversed position?” Sara rattled on, a mixture of  her usual bravado and a healthy dose of honest concern.

Ava rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her heart was fluttering, dear god. Even over the phone, Sara was adorable―annoying as ever, but so fucking cute about it.

“I’m _good_ , thanks for asking,” Ava replied dryly, smiling despite herself, “but I really do need you to come back to work. Gavin is actually losing it, and I’m worried he’s serious about letting you go if you miss another day.”

Sara seemed to have popped another cheeto in her mouth. All Ava could hear was her chewing.

“Well that’s alarming,” she deduced, talking through bites of cheeto. Ava held the phone slightly away from her ear, worrying she might go deaf from the sounds.

“Could you maybe stop eating? Like for just a second? It’s like you’re revving a motorcycle on my eardrum,” Ava grimaced. The chewing momentarily paused.

“Sorwy,” Sara apologized, obviously still chewing. Ava felt her pulse quicken. God. She wasn’t sure if she’d punch Sara the next time she saw her, or kiss the everliving hell out of her.

Probably neither.

“So…” Ava continued, realizing she’d hit a wall. Nerves ran up her neck. _Obviously_ something was very wrong with Sara’s current situation. _Obviously_ Sara didn’t want to share, and _obviously_ she’d be at work if she could; Ava had no idea why she thought pressuring her to come back would be a good idea. Oh god, she had no idea what she’s doing. Sara was probably going to hate her―

“I―I think I can come in,” Sara said all at once, like she suddenly came to the realization, “but―err, I need a favor. And as a disclaimer, you’re going to hate it.”

Ava gulped. Oh jesus―

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to need to stay over. Don’t worry, I can sleep on the floor no problem. I could literally sleep on window sill if you wanted me to,” Sara laughed nervously, spilling over her words, “like, you won’t even _see_ me. And it’d just be for a few days. Till I can figure something out.”

Ava’s hands went cold, like her circulation had momentarily glitched. Sara wanted to stay with her. Like in her _room,_ her _single_ room. Like sleep there. For consecutive days. With Ava. Well, not _with_ Ava, but _by_ Ava, like in Ava’s proximity. Next to her. Or on the fucking floor.

Ava’s breath hitched.

 _“_ You can stay at my place for as long as you want.”

Ava had no idea when _that_ sentence ever became something real that she would say to Sara Lance. But, well, fuck, here she was.

Here they were.

“Are you sure?” Sara whispered, voice light as a feather. Almost nervous. Almost vulnerable, like Ava was going to rescind her offer any second, take the hook out of the water and leave her flailing.

“Positive,” Ava smiled into the receiver, biting her lip. This was too much, her heart was going to stop; this was such a terrible idea, christ, she needed to lighten things up―“as long as you start pulling your weight here at the office. I’m going to be out of a job too, you know, if all I do all day is text you under my desk.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” Sara joked, the flash of vulnerability Ava felt gone as soon as it had came, “although I admit I _am_ fun to text. My meme game is _strong_.”

“Please refrain from talking about your meme game when you’re staying in my room,” Ava rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were flushed. _Staying in her room,_ “or any time, actually.”

“Oh, so there’s rules? I’ll make sure to read the homeowners manual,” Sara smirked, already _way_ too comfortable, “what else? Do you wake up at five AM to meditate to some zen cat videos or something? Because if so I might just sleep outside.”

Ava laughed, “I’m sure even if I _did_ do something as ludacris as that, you’d probably sleep through it anyway.”

“ _Now_ you’re talking like you’re my roommate,” Sara grinned. Ava’s heart thumped.

Truly, the naivete, she sighed―this was evidently the beginning of the end.

  
  


Sara showed up an hour later, hair ruffled, suitcase in toe, holding a toothbrush in her right hand a pillow in another. She looked like she just got emergency dropped out of a plane on her way to a weekend vacation.

It made Ava’s heart nearly pour over.

“You hungry?” was all Sara said, smiling like this was all totally normal. Like they’d always been de-facto roommates. Like it wasn’t 2PM in the middle of the work week.

Ava balked, but just shook her head and laughed, taking the suitcase out of Sara’s hands.

“Starving.”

  
  
  


 

To Ava’s surprise, Sara seemed to know the Pier like the back of her hand. Ava had tried to make recommendations here and there―the tacos here were to die for, seriously―but Sara had just shaken her head and laughed, dragging Ava by the hand down the street and towards the shoreline. Ava had shut up the moment that Sara intertwined their fingers.

“Oh my god, _ramen_ ,” Sara practically groaned, finally coming to a stop as she dragged Ava around yet another sharp corner. As Ava attempted to catch her breathe, she looked up to see a small, unsuspecting ramen shop right by the Pier’s edge. It was so small Ava was sure she wouldn’t have even caught it if not for Sara; the signage was completely in Japanese, save for a small addition that said _yeah ramen here!_ underneath in comic sans. It seemed to be the only restaurant within a mile that didn’t look completely like a wallet-stealing tourist trap.

“I’ve never really had real ramen before,” Ava admitted, embarrassed, “besides that cheap supermarket stuff.”

Sara looked at her like she had just killed her cat.

“ _Ava Sharpe_ , you very nearly just made me hate you again,” Sara laughed in disbelief, “we are eating here. It’s the best ramen in Santa Monica, don’t even.”

Sara wasn’t wrong. Well, Ava really wouldn’t know. She wasn’t kidding before―Fresno wasn’t really known for anything remotely authentic (outside authentically nasty tomato sauce.)

“Dear god,” Ava moaned, dropping her chopsticks into the bowl and leaning back into her seat, “I regret my entire childhood.”

Sara belly-laughed, “I regret yours too.”

“Shut up.”

“Never,” Sara grinned, swatting at Ava’s hand on the table. Ava smiled, just a hint.

“So why do you know about this place anyway? Aren’t you from Star City?”

Sara froze, clearly not expecting the question. She sighed.

“My aunt Suzy,” Sara rolled her eyes, “godmother, roommate, whatever title you want to give her. Gatekeeper of Hell’s Gates. Very uncool witch.”

Ava laughed, “so there are cool witches?”

“Of course!” Sara insisted, partially offended, “pretty sure my neighbors in Star City are part of a coven, and they rock some pretty impressive jewelry.”

Ava shook her head, “I’ll take your word for it. But what about Suzy?”

“Oh,” Sara deflated again. It made Ava’s heart break; you could see the history there―the way Sara’s hands twitched, how she played nervously with her hair and avoided Ava’s eyes, “yeah, so Mom and I came up and visited her almost every year since I was born. But naturally I took every opportunity to sneak out and get away from that mess. So I came here, by the Pier. Hung out with the stoners over at Santa Monica College. Surprisingly cool people.”

Ava, per usual, was baffled, but no longer surprised, “how old were you? Like twelve? And hanging out with um―”

“Stoners,” Sara re-affirmed, laughing, “don’t worry, they were great influences.”

“I’m sure,” Ava muttered, putting her head in her hands, “so you had your own little Santa Monica clique, huh? Why am I not surprised? You probably had them running your errands at age thirteen.”

Sara guffawed, really smiling now, and Ava smiled back, “ _Naturally_. They called me Peter Pan. It was kind of embarrassing, looking back.”

“That’s _so_ cute,” Ava bit her lip, the words spilling out of her mouth. Sara’s eyes rose to meet hers, and Ava flushed. _Shit_.

“You think so?” Sara quirked an eyebrow, outstretching her hand and twirling Ava’s chopstick around her bowl, “I’m sure you were probably the cuter kid. Ordering around action figures.”

“Hardly,” Ava laughed shallowly, “I was obsessed with school. I even did my homework on playdates, if you want to talk about _embarrassing_.”

“That’s not embarrassing,” Sara said softly, biting her lip and catching Ava’s eyes, “you’re lowkey _insane_ , but not embarrassing. Honestly―I wish I had half the determination you do.”

Ava bit her lip so hard she might draw blood, so unused to Sara showering her with compliments; and God―Sara was looking at her so _warm_ , her hand inches from her own, making dumb circles on the tablecloth. Did she really think of her like that?

Ava shook her head, “Sara, are you kidding? You _do_ . You miss work for one day and our project is literally in pieces. Gavin’s a disaster. _I’m_ a―” Ava caught herself, inhaling sharply. Too far.

“You’re what?” Sara urged her on, grinning mischievously, “ _please_ tell me how much of a mess you are without seeing me for one day. The great, oh _so_ independent Ava Sharpe.”

Ava looked horrified, “I’m _fine_ , thanks for asking. Truthfully, it was nice to get some peace and quiet.”

“Uh huh,” Sara narrowed her eyes, defiant, “ _sure_ , Ava.”

Ava’s heart thumped. _Shit_.

“Two checks, ladies?” the waitress approached them, cutting through the tension.

Before Ava could even speak, Sara slid over a debit card, “just one.”

Ava paused, what? This wasn't a _date_. Or, wait, was it? Of course not. She looked at Sara in disbelief, looking for some sort of indication. Sara just smiled.

“Least I can do,” Sara shrugged, “ _roomie_.”

Oh. Right.

 _Roommates_. Ava groaned.

  


It didn’t really hit Ava until they were back at the apartment. Note: _The_ apartment, no longer just Ava’s apartment (although only temporarily, as Ava had to keep reminding herself.) And really, Ava had never been more self-conscious of her own routines until suddenly Sara was smack-dab in the middle of all of them. No more parading around her room in just her underwear while she listened to audiobooks in the evening. No more sad spotify playlists for when she missed her hometown friends. No more flossing absentmindedly because she was obsessed with dental hygiene.

“Oh my god, Ava, that _cannot_ be what you wear to bed.”

Ava frowned, indignant, in her t-shirt, shorts, and frilly white robe.

“I’m being modest.”

Sara nearly cried laughing.

“Girl, modest? This isn’t the eighteenth century. I’ve seen the outline of your leg before.”

Ava just rolled her eyes and turned away, blushing. Truthfully, she had no idea what the protocol was here. Sara was a friend, sure, I guess, a coworker, definitely―but as a roommate? This was all happening very fast. And not in the correct order.

Ava flinched. What, was she suggesting they were U-Hauling too early?

“Whatever,” Ava blew back, taking off the robe. She admitted it was a bit much. And she was kind of having a heat stroke.

Ava checked her watch. It was already 9pm. It was a Friday, so that wasn’t, like, _alarming_ , but her weekend bedtime approached 10pm. She already knew this was going to be a point of contention.

“So what time do you usually go to bed on the weekends?” Ava offered innocently, falling into her mattress. Sara was busy arranging her variety of toiletries in the most non-invasive way possible, which currently meant putting them in a giant heap next to her on the floor.

“Like one,” Sara shrugged, precariously balancing the tip of a shampoo bottle on a soap bar container.

Jesus.

“Jesus,” Ava laughed, rolling her eyes, “yeah, no. Not happening.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not surprised,” Sara grinned, turning around, “compromise at twelve?”

“I was thinking, like, _eleven_.”

Sara’s face dropped, as if this was some support of insane hotel policy.

“This is a sleepover, Aves, you don’t put bedtimes on sleepovers,” Sara fought back, trying desperately to find a loophole. Ava guffawed.

“Oh is that what we’re calling it now? Demoted from roommates?”

“Semantics,” Sara smirked, climbing onto Ava’s bed and getting comfortable. Ava licked her lips, all arguments suddenly evaporating as she watched Sara tug at her sweatshirt and fling it on top of her pile on the floor. Sara looked at it proudly.

Ava pinched the bridge of her nose. She was painfully attracted to someone who definitely thought she just achieved the peak of organization.

“But this _is_ a sleepover, so don’t be rude,” Sara continued, nudging at Ava’s elbow for her to put down her laptop. Ava rolled her eyes, but obliged; it was nearly impossible to say no to Sara Lance, especially when she was only centimeters away, looking at you like you held some sort of tomb of secrets.

Without anything left to distract herself, Ava’s pulse was running rabid as Sara continued to look at her idly, curled up next to her like they did this every night. She swore that she saw Sara’s eyes dip shamelessly to Ava’s lips.

“Truth or dare?” Sara suggested cheekily.

“Absolutely not,” Ava bit her lip. She was _not_ going down that rabbit hole.

“But Ava, it’s a _sleepover_ ,” Sara stressed the last word, getting infinitesimally closer to Ava as she nudged her in the side, her fingers tickling the skin by Ava’s hip bone. Ava barely kept herself from shuttering. Sara was _definitely_ playing with her.

And she was definitely not enjoying it. Nope.

“And we’re not seven,” Ava rebutted, leaning into her pillow in an attempt to gain a millimeter of distance. Sara didn’t seem to care, because she only nudged in closer, basically cradling Ava’s thigh with her own. Ava felt it in her lower stomach. Shit. She was so helpless.

Oh my god. And this was day _one_ of this.

“Fine,” Sara rolled her eyes, like she never wanted to play at all, “then let’s watch a documentary?”

To Ava’s surprise, she didn’t hate that idea. What she really wanted to say was: how about you tell me about your family, or your aunt, and maybe why you’re _in my bed_ , or, more generally, why you’re in my apartment at all?

But what she really said was:

“That’s not a terrible idea.”

“Yes!” Sara cheered, grinning as she pulled at Ava’s blankets, slinking her away under them.

“Hey! Give those back,” Ava frowned, her legs prickling with goosebumps. She wish she had kept the robe on.

“But I’m _comfortable_ ,” Sara teased, leaning over Ava to grab her laptop from the floor. Ava shook her head, grabbing at the covers to get a share.

“Fine, fine, you can have some, move,” Sara grinned, tugging at Ava’s arm and pulling her closer. Ava held in her breath as Sara arranged the covers over them, flailing around sporadically until they more or less had an equal share. When everything was settled, Sara sighed, and plopped the laptop into Ava’s lap.

Fuck. They were _so_ close.

“So, what are we watching?” Sara prodded. Ava shrugged, didn't care. Anything to distract herself from the way that Sara’s pinky was brushing against hers under the covers.

“Ooh, how about this one?” Sara suggested, pointing to something on the Netflix screen. It was something called NO. A historical documentary, something about an uprising in Chile in the 80s. A coup d’etat. Fall of democracy. Sounded pretty interesting, actually.

“Sure.”

Twenty minutes passed and Ava was engrossed; she had always been a huge documentary nerd. Really, she had almost forgotten Sara was there. Well. Almost.

Ava felt Sara yawn and move against her, experimentally twisting her ankle around until she was on her side, curled nearly in fetal position against Ava’s body. She felt Sara’s head find her shoulder, move around until she was comfortable. Ava steadied her breathing.

Friends did this.

She couldn’t count the number of times she had repeated that phrase to herself in her life. Friends did this. Casual touches didn’t _mean_ things. Friends could cuddle. Friends could share a bed. Friends could―

Ava felt Sara’s finger curl around her wrist, almost shyly. It paused there for a moment, and Ava assumed she must not have even realized she’d done it. Her eyes were trained on the screen. A few minutes passed and Ava relaxed again, but Sara’s hand dipped lower, her fingers now playing with Ava’s palm. Ava breathed out shallowly.

“This is intense,” Sara whispered. Ava laughed. _This, or the movie?_

“Yeah,” Ava coughed, “how could they possibly vote a dictator out of office?”

“They say life’s weirder than fiction, right?” Sara smiled, gaze still pinned to the movie. Meanwhile, she had stopped moving, her hand now lazily draped over Ava’s under the covers. Ava had no idea what she was supposed do with that.

Friends did this too, she guessed.

“Right,” Ava agreed.

The movie went on for another five minutes before Sara shifted again. She seemed to be impossibly uncomfortable.

Sara paused the film.

“Can I?” Sara asked all of a sudden, lifting her head from Ava’s shoulder and gesturing vaguely to Ava. Ava squinted, beyond confused.

“Um, sure?” Ava offered. _Do what_?

Sara bit her lip and shuffled down into the covers, propping the laptop up between them as she settled her head on Ava’s stomach, her hair draping down Ava’s torso.

 _Oh_.

She hoped to any God that Sara couldn’t hear her heartbeat right now.

They resumed the movie but it was hopeless at this point. Ava was now overly concerned with a variety of things: Sara’s insanely pretty hair. Ok. So maybe just one thing. It was just, like, right there. And―

She touched it. Oh god. Why did she do that?

She felt Sara make a low sound at the touch and leaned into it. Ava retracted her hand like she’d been burned.

“Mm, it’s okay,” Sara whispered, and Ava wished so badly that she could see her eyes.

It took a few minutes for Ava to process that statement. Even then, she had no idea what _it_ was, but if it was permission to touch Sara’s hair… to _touch_ Sara.

She was starting to lose it.

She reached out again, her fingers hesitating over Sara’s scalp; fuck―she took a breath and let her palm glide over it, curling her fingers to massage it ever so lightly as she ran her fingers through blonde locks.

Sara made some sort of sound―something resembling a moan, which Ava felt in places she didn’t even want to think about―and pressed her head further into Ava’s lower stomach.

They kept like this for the remainder of the documentary, Ava’s hands in Sara’s hair, Sara responding occasionally with an approving sound. Ava’s heart was ablaze, her thoughts clouded; you’d think they were making out, for fuck’s sake, but Ava’s nerves were ablaze over just this―

Something friends did. Probably.

“I should probably tell you why I’m here,” Sara said, laughing quietly to herself as the credits rolled.

“Mm?” Ava’s eyes broke from Sara’s hair to her reflection in the laptop screen. Seeing them like this, so close, so _intimate_ ; the image nearly broke Ava. Nearly broke the illusion. She flicked the laptop closed with an urgency.

“Basically my living situation is hell,” Sara laughed again―not a real laugh, just a broken one―but Ava listened intently, “I responded to the internship too late to get the housing stipend, so I had nowhere to stay. So I’m staying at Suzy’s. You know, the witch I mentioned.”

“I’m familiar,” Ava smiled, and absentmindedly drew a ring over Sara’s scalp.

“Uhhng, God, please keep doing that,” Sara whispered.

Ava swallowed, hard. Oh for fuck’s sake.

“U-h huh,” Ava said, “so you got stuck with her?”

“Yeah, basically,” Sara resumed, “but she’s seriously the worst, Ava. The reason I couldn’t come to work is because she saw a picture of me and my ex on my phone. God―I was trying to _delete_ those gross photos but oh no, no she sees _one_ picture of me kissing up on another girl and it’s _over_. No more internship, Sara. You’re staying here, Sara. I’m calling your Mom, Sara. Like that’ll do shit. My mom already knows I’m her reject daughter. Might as well call my sister and re-congratulate her for not being the bi fuckup.”

The words hit Ava like the rebound of a boomerang, instantly overwhelmed with guilt, sympathy, _feelings_.

“Sara…”

“But, really, it’s fine,” Sara laughed coldly, “I’m used to it.”

“But you shouldn’t be. You’re _not_ a fuckup,” Ava demanded, sitting up. Sara raised her head off her stomach and avoided Ava’s eyes; she had a few stray tears streaking her cheeks, and Ava immediately cupped her cheek, wiping them away. Sara’s breath shook.

“Fuck. This is why I didn’t want to bring it up,” Sara laughed shallowly, “I’m a mess. Really, it’s fine.”

Ava shook her head, pushing a lock of Sara’s hair behind her ear. Normally, all this contact would overwhelm her, but at the sight of Sara crying, she couldn’t help it. She needed to comfort her somehow. Needed to be _close_. Needed to make her know that she cared.

“Anyone who thinks you’re less than incredible is a fucking idiot, to be completely honest,” Ava said truthfully, “including myself, for ever thinking otherwise.”

Sara’s jaw dropped, a smile slowly forming on her lips.

“You _are_ an idiot,” Sara bit her lip, “but thinking I’m an asshole under first impression definitely isn’t why. But… thank you, Ava. You’re… I―”

Sara’s eyes dipped to Ava’s lips again, a flash of apprehension crossing her face. Sara leaned in slightly, testing the waters, and then brought a hand up to Ava’s face, cupping it in the most delicate way.

Before Ava could think to move, Sara leaned up and pressed a familiar kiss to Ava’s cheek. Not sloppy, this time, not messy or rushed. She remained there for what felt like hours, lips planted to Ava’s face, smiling into the side of it. Her chest was flush to Ava’s, and Ava did everything she could not to move (or to scream, to be frank.)

After an infinity, Sara leaned back, looking at Ava like she was perfect.

This was a thing that friends did.

“Thank you for letting me stay with you, seriously,” Sara said, a smile permanently stuck to her lips.

“I―it was nothing,” Ava shook her head, nudging Sara in the elbow, “I’ve never even tried to come out to my crazy conservative Aunt Barbara, but I’m sure if I did, it’d end up a little like this.”

Ava let out a breath, letting the revelation settle in the air. And there it was.

“So you _are_ gay,” Sara beamed.

“Yes, yes, I guess, whatever,” Ava rolled her eyes, trying desperately to avoid how happy Sara sounded about the whole thing.

“Glad I can _finally_ make gay jokes, christ,” Sara laughed, giddy as a kid, “I let sooo many opportunities go, you don’t even know.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Ava yawned, overflowing with way too many emotions. She checked the clock. It was already twelve, and her body was feeling it. Processing this roller coaster of feelings was becoming near impossible.

“Okay, sleepyhead, I get it,” Sara smirked, knocking Ava on the forehead affectionality, “time for bed, grandma.”

“I―I’m fine, really,” Ava yawned again, not convincing anyone.

“Uh huh,” Sara rolled her eyes, moving Ava’s laptop to her desk as she get off her bed, “lights out, princess.”

“You cannot seriously be thinking that you’re sleeping on the floor,” Ava groaned, watching as Sara sat down on the cold wood. _Not that she had thought to purchase a sleeping bag._

“I can sleep on _anything_ , Ava,” Sara insisted, “now close your eyes.”

“Get over here.”

Ava surprised herself as the words slipped out. Sara’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but they quickly fell. Ava’s cheeks were as red as an apple, and she was suddenly very grateful that Sara had turned the lights off.

“It’s not my fault if I kick you,” Sara warned, climbing into the bed and curling up.

“And it’s not my fault if I kick you back.”

Sara sighed, happily. Ava smiled into the dark.

She knew one thing―a friend had never made her feel quite like _this_.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any readers of 'the loophole' catch that documentary reference? hehe. anyway. im SOOO sorry for the wait in between these chapters. finals are FINALLY over and i have time to write again. i really enjoyed getting back into the groove with this chapter and i hope you did too. let me know what you think. xx


	7. roommates (part II)

It only took Ava two days to notice that being roommates with Sara―

 _ehEM, temporary_ roommates with Sara―

Meant something that she hadn’t quite thought of beforehand (in all of the ten seconds she had to plan her thoughtful, calculated response of OF COURSE SARA, ROOM WITH ME SARA, ANYTHING FOR YOU SARA); the point was, it had become quickly apparent that combined with their usual 9 - 5, Ava Sharpe was spending every single waking and sleeping hour with Sara Lance.

Yes, _that_ Sara Lance. The girl, which, if Ava could ever possibly recall, she hated. Used to hate. The same girl who still made her stomach upset, but maybe for different reasons;

But, God, it was nonstop. 24/7. From the morning to work and back again. A shared desk, a shared cube, a shared room, a shared―

Oh, of course: a shared bed. Ava was becoming increasingly aware that they were _sleeping together_ ―uhm― _next to each other_. Her skin crawled.

And the most alarming thing? Ava wasn’t losing it. She wasn’t even annoyed. She was, fuck―she was _enjoying_ it.

“Happy seventy two hours,” Sara snorted, resuscitating Ava from the deep hole she had crawled into in her mind. She could see Sara’s shit-eating grin through the reflection of her work laptop. Right: work. They were at work. God help her.

“I swear to God I’m going to throw this thing at you,” Ava fired back, voice anything but menacing, “and you know how much these Thinkpad dinosaurs weigh.”

“I’m beyond aware,” Sara groaned, “that’s why I refuse to take mine home. I don’t know how you do it everyday. You’re going to be the Hunchback of Santa Monica.”

Ava couldn’t keep a straight face. She turned her head and shot Sara a look―something lopsided, that said _I sort of hate you but you also might be the funniest person I’ve ever met_ ―before she turned back to face reality: that they were here to work. That Ava was painfully behind.

As much as she had silently enjoyed listening to Sara chatter on for the past day and a half, it had also occupied about 95% of her brain function. All she could think about was how to make Sara laugh. What she could say to make her smile. That if maybe she positioned her chair right, their feet would be touching under the table, and it would be perfectly innocent, not a big deal at all―

Ava inhaled sharply, staring into her monitor. She was so immensely fucked.

She yawned, rubbing at her eyes―and so immensely exhausted.

..........

The other thing was: Sara kinda snored, and Los Angeles wasn’t exactly _quiet_.

And Ava was always a light sleeper.

Her family’s house was fairly rural: undisturbed, secluded suburbia. The loudest things to creep in the night were the outdoor cats meowing at doorsteps.

But growing up in complete silence made things uneasy. Hustle and bustle, white noise―to Ava’s ears, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. So don’t blame her if she woke up in the night to the errant car honk or dog bark.

But what she didn’t expect was for Sara to be a light sleeper, too.

“You heard that too, huh?”

Ava stiffened, turning around to see Sara staring at her back, bright blue eyes barely illuminated in the dark.

“Yeah,” Ava breathed out, “what were they even yelling about?”

“McDonalds or―” Sara grinned.

“Or Burger King,” Ava groaned, remembering. They looked at each other for a moment, then giggled.

“I think she was right to throw him out of the uber,” Sara teased, raising an eyebrow, “McDonald's is _gross_.”

“Right. Very worthy of throwing someone out of a moving vehicle.”

“Please. I’m pretty sure he got out of the car himself.”

“Then _why_ was he _screaming_?” Ava stressed, rubbing her eyes and groaning.

Sara laughed and scooched closer, dragging her pillow so close their noses nearly brushed.

Sara bit her lip, staring at Ava intently.

“So you’re a light sleeper, too, huh?” she whispered. Ava’s breath hitched, the intensity of Sara’s gaze making her feel suddenly like she was staring at the face of the sun.

“Yeah,” Ava laughed lightly, “hard to adjust when you come from bumfuck.”

Sara chuckled.

“Yeah, I bet.”

 _But why are you?_ Ava’s head mused, taking in the sudden smallness of the girl curled beside her. Bravado was bared naked in the dark: Sara’s head was buried in her pillow, eyes glazed over with sleep, lips slightly parted like they forgot how to speak.

Two days sharing almost everything, and everything about Sara seemed closer now, like they had been friends forever, spent years sharing secrets under the sheets―

“My dad’s a police officer.”

And _oh_ ― that… oh.

Ava smiled sadly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sara returned, looking at Ava meekly. Ava wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her.

“When your dad’s in the force you…” Sara’s voice was low, biting back emotions, and she looked down into the sheets, “you become suspicious of everything. Even in in your sleep. Even dumb crickets.”

They sat there in silence just a moment, Ava’s breath stuck in a chokehold. Looking at Sara now, so effortlessly vulnerable, so goddamn _beautiful_ ―she could barely remember what it ever felt like to hate her. To hate those _eyes_ , god, or those _lips_ ―

Oh, fuck―Ava’s heart fell, those lips that were quivering now. Sara took in a sharp breath, pinching her nose. Letting out the air, slow and steady. She was obviously a word away from falling apart again.

“Oh, Sara…”

Ava couldn’t help it anymore. She reached out, an apprehensive hand floating in the space between them. She lay there frozen in fear for a second―swirling _what if she_ _thinks_ and _oh god why did_ I’s echoing around her head like chatter from a radio. But God, this wasn’t the time to be unsure.

She reached out and closed the distance between their fingers, her hand finding Sara’s under the covers.

Sara hiccuped, holding back tears as she held Ava’s hand in a death grip. Their eyes were glued to each other.

“This is definitely _not_ what you were looking for when you agreed to this internship,” Sara laughed, voice hoarse and broken, “some asshole to come invade your room and ruin your project. Real lottery winner.”

Ava felt two years of guilt sit on her shoulders, like she was Atlas holding up the world.

“You haven’t ruined anything, Sara…” Ava whispered. She couldn’t find the words to say anything else.

Silence hung between them again, Ava’s thumb stroking comforting circles over the back of Sara’s hand.

“You kind of have to say that,” Sara smiled weakly, “you live with me, work with me, _and_ I bought you lunch.”

Ava shook her head, couldn’t help herself but laugh.

“I must have missed the wedding ceremony.”

Sara finally cracked a real smile―the sheer ridiculousness, the exhaustion, the _work_ catching up with them both all at once. Sara’s head fell into Ava’s chest, her body collapsing with laughter. Ava wrapped her arms around Sara’s back, exhausted and overjoyed and overwhelmed with how warm Sara was in her arms.

After her laughter calmed, Sara tilted her head upwards, looking at Ava like she held up the sun.

“It’s 3AM, and I’m _literally_ going to see you in the morning _and_ at work, but all I want to do is talk to you forever,” Sara confessed, biting her tongue like the words had slipped out.

Ava’s heart sped up what felt like a hundred beats per minute, the tenderness in Sara’s voice making her want to throw herself off a cliff, or atleast a window, dear God.

“God, I _know_ , me _too_ ,” Ava breathed out, her hands still rung around Sara’s neck.

Caught up in the moment, Ava hadn’t realized just how close they were, meshed together like spaghetti. Sara’s forehead moments from her own, her knees sitting in Ava’s lap. Ava’s hands drawing patterns on Sara’s back. Sara’s hair, braided two ways and disheveled. Ava’s mouth, slightly ajar. Sara’s eyes, following her lips like she was tracking prey.

Ava was too tired to hide from it. Sara was looking at her like she wanted to kiss her.

Ava licked her lips.

“Are you tired of me yet?” Sara whispered, leaning in evermore slightly.

“N―no, not even a little bit.” Oh my god, this was it―Ava could barely breathe, the smell of Sara’s perfume on her neck overwhelming intoxicating.

“Not even when I get like this?”

Sara ran her hand slowly up Ava’s thigh, and Ava shivered. Her lower stomach felt hot.

“Not even a little bit.”

“Aren’t you exhausted?” Sara pressed, eyes desperately wanting _something_ from Ava as their bodies remained flushed, Sara’s left hand playing with Ava’s fingertips.

“God, _no_ ,” Ava said, desperation flaring in her. She wished more than anything that Sara’s hands would cup her back, press into her so there wasn’t a millimeter of space left. So there wasn’t any questions anymore. She wanted to feel Sara’s lips so much, she ached.

“You will be, though” Sara said softly, stilling, the hardness in her voice returning. She froze moments from Ava’s lips, just far enough to sit in the realm of plausible deniability, just far enough that Ava’s _friends do this friends do friends do this_ tape begun to run rampant in the back of her head, just far enough for the guilt to creep back up her spine with a force.

“No, I won’t,” Ava said hoarsely, decisively, “I _like_ you, Sara.”

Sara’s ears perked, the barriers behind her eyes bending just a bit. Ava leaned out just a bit, just far away enough that Sara knew she was serious. That this wasn’t just a 3AM _moment_.

“Sara―shit―I _wish_ I was tired of you. It’s goddamn inconvenient how much I like being your friend. I could talk to you _forever_. I’ve never felt this way with literally anybody. How could you ever think I could get tired of you?”

Anger almost lilted in Ava’s voice, but it wasn’t anger. It was _disbelief_. Sara’s mouth opened, then closed, recognizing and processing the honesty there.

After a moment of saying nothing―and bringing Ava’s ever-anxious mind to the brink of a panic attack―Sara smiled. Just smiled. It wasn’t big but it wasn’t small, either. It was something Ava hadn’t seen before. Like for the first time, Sara was really listening.

“Whatever you say, Ava Sharpe.”

Ava smiled back, damped desire settling in her stomach.

“I mean, this is my apartment. So it _is_ whatever I say.”

Sara’s eyes crinkled. There was that familiar grin. Mischievous and giddy. It made Ava’s heart overflow just to see it again.

They sat there for what felt like hours, grinning like kids with lollipops. But then again, it was nearly four in the morning. And Ava wasn’t sure her heart could take another of these close-calls with Sara. Ebbing in and out of what felt like near misses. Look―she was being honest, she _did_ like her. As a friend. Okay, yes, and definitely more. But that didn’t mean she had any idea what she was doing.

Or if Sara reciprocated any of this.

In her head, Ava cursed at herself. This was truly lesbian hell.

“We should sleep,” Ava coughed, looking passed Sara and at her alarm clock. She was going to hate herself in the morning. (But what’s new.)

“I guess,” Sara shrugged, looking down at her hands. She looked vaguely disappointed. Ava was beyond confused.

But―oh.

“Is your dad working tonight?” Ava asked, something finally clicking.

Sara’s head whipped up, like Ava had slapped her. She looked so fragile.

“Yes.”

Of course he was. Ava sighed. Fucking duh, how stupid she’d been―Sara was _petrified_.

“What can I do?”

“I… It’s just. It’s stupid, but…”

Sara tucked a hair behind her ear, looking down. Ava had never seen her this shy.

“Come _on_ , Sara. Was my monologue about how apparently obsessed with you I am not enough? Whatever you need, I’m here. _Happily_ here.”

Ava inhaled softly. Sometimes making light of things made them less real.

“Oh yeah? I have an idea for tomorrow. Skip work. Let’s get matching tattoos.”

“Shut up, Christ,” Ava rolled her eyes, barely stifling a yawn. Sara looked at her apologetically, but wasn’t about to let this joke die.

“Maybe I’ll get your initials on my back. Real Jersey Shore style.”

“I would kill you.”

“No you wouldn’t. You’d probably kiss me.”

Ava’s heart stopped.

“You wish.”

Sara shrugged, so painfully nonchalant that Ava could genuinely kill her. Ava had seen enough episodes of the Good Place to know that this was limbo. This was the land in between Heaven and Hell. It was the way Sara looked so beautiful slouched on a pillow, playing with her feelings with the delicacy of a needle and thread.

“I usually can’t fall asleep unless… someone’s holding me.”

Ava’s internal tires screeched to a halt, all attempts to wax poetic about her inner turmoil put on pause.

She realized then, with Sara’s words hanging in the air, how much she _wanted_ to. Like she’s never wanted anything before.

“Scooch,” Ava whispered, gesturing for Sara to turn. Sara looked at her in genuine surprise, but complied, turning onto her side, facing away from Ava.

“Like this?” Sara offered, voice light, vulnerable.

“Yeah, perfect.”

Ava looked at Sara’s back, biting her lip. Her mind remembered the last time she had looked at it with such intensity. The sounds that Sara made when she rubbed sunscreen into the scars dotting her shoulder blades. She wished she could slip Sara’s tank top over her head and kiss each of them, tell her how perfect each of them were. How fucking _cool_ she was, how painfully unique, interesting, _smart_.

But she didn’t. She inched in closer, slowly reaching her arm over Sara’s side. She knew she had permission, that Sara wanted this, _needed_ this, but fuck, Ava was still terrified. Terrified that at any moment Sara would call her out. Call her creepy. Tell her she was reading the wrong signals.

Ava took a sharp breath in and laid her arm over Sara’s middle, her hand finding the fabric of Sara’s shirt and holding it softly. She pressed the rest of her body into hers, her torso flush to Sara’s back, her leg falling just over Sara’s. She felt Sara sigh. She heard the faintest drum of her heartbeat.

Before she could think to move, to give Sara more space, Sara’s hand fell over hers, holding her down. She intertwined their legs even further, burrowing herself completely into Ava.

“Thank you,” Sara whispered, exhaustion evident. Ava had never felt more warm.

She wanted to say so many things―anytime, always, _I could do this forever, and that scares the shit out of me_.

She breathed in. Then out.

“See you in the morning.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was truly so dramatic. like being inside ava's head is the most dramatic place in the world. this girl is being actively oppressed by how much she wants to make out with sara. its so fucking stupid and i love her for it. anyway -- as always, let me know what you think. xx


	8. the pier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe

When Ava entered her cubicle for the fifth day that week, Gavin was wearing a turtleneck. Not a mock-neck, either: a full-on cotton situation. His usual sneakers were discarded, too, replaced in favor of Clark’s. Worst of all, his socks were white. White as sheep. No pocket square, no pattern, no flare, nothing. He looked, as a whole, like he’d been robbed.

It wasn’t just that, though. Everything about Aberration that day was just slightly… off. People were overdressed. Suits and heels replaced khakis and vans. Ava wasn’t too concerned―she wore business professional everyday, as one should―but she was concerned for Sara. Very concerned.

“You have to change.”

Sara looked at her quizzically, propping her sneakers up on her desk.

“Why? I look like this everyday. You don’t like it?”

Ava rolled her eyes. True to form, Sara hadn’t even noticed.

“That’s―God, Sara―that’s not the point. _Obviously_ something big is happening today. Everyone is overdressed. You don’t want to lose a potential job here just because you’re somehow the type of person to wear mismatching socks to work.”

Sara grinned, totally unconcerned. Ava found it painfully endearing.

“They aren’t mismatched. They’re designer,” she wagered. Ava bit her lip, hiding a smile. They had bought those socks earlier this week… at Walmart.

“You realize we live together, right? I’ve seen your laundry.”

“Not _all_ of it,” Sara tutted.

“Are you implying you’re stashing clothes somewhere else? Because we already live in a shoebox,” Ava said.

 _We live_. Ava gulped down the words. Ugh. This had gone too long, and it’d been a week.

“It’s not _my_ fault you barely check the contents of your closet,” Sara said, biting her lip. Ava’s mouth dropped.

“As much as it pains me to say this, Ava is right,” Gavin interjected, staring into his iPhone camera as he desperately tried to finish penciling in his eyebrows.

Ava shook her head in exhaustion. She really couldn’t think too hard about anything in her life right now. The sheer stupidity of every interaction she’d witnessed (and been a willing part of) in the past four weeks was taking its toll. As much as she had very much enjoyed… _some_ things... about her new life here, a part of her yearned for the normalcy of life as a college student back in Maryland; it wasn’t home, but shit, even the frat boys were at least _predictable_.

“Do they look ok?” Gavin fretted, gesturing wildly at his eyebrows.

“They’re _stellar_ ,” Sara replied, nudging Ava and flashing her a knowing grin. It made Ava’s stomach turn.

“So, err, do you know what the big deal is, then, Mr. Green?” Ava prodded. She needed to know what she’d be up against. Interviews? Ice cream socials? _Networking_?

“Well duh,” Gavin laughed, finally putting down his phone, “don’t you? Intern presentations are today. I emailed you all weeks ago about it.”

Ava’s blood ran cold.

“They―what? _What_? Us? Presenting to who?” she babbled hysterically, looking at Sara desperately for answers. Sara looked just as shocked, but in a considerably less bothered way: shoulders slumped, still scrolling through instagram. Ava flinched. Was she not even concerned?

Shit―how could she have missed this? How could _both_ of them have missed this?

Well. She… she knew why. Her mouth slipped into a frown.

“Oh my. This is not good. You are presenting to the _board_ , dears,” Gavin’s eyebrows creased, “luckily, you all present last. You have until 2:30 to whip something up. And to get Sara out of _that_ disaster. No offense, usually a huge fan.”

Sara’s mouth dropped open, obviously more taken aback by the attack on her outfit than the fact that they had to come up with a suitable presentation about Gideon for the _executive board_ in under six hours.

Ava was going to lose her mind. This was it. This was the end. Alright―she’d said that _a lot_ this week, but nothing had deserved it as much as this. This was a natural disaster. A goddamn silicon valley earthquake.

“I―how could we possibly be ready by then? We’re going to embarrass ourselves. Oh my god,” Ava blurted, eyes hazy with shock. Her mind was reeling.

“It’ll be fine, Ava.”

Ava’s eyes snapped to Sara.

“How could you possibly say that?” Ava seethed, “we haven’t prepared anything.”

Sara raised an eyebrow. Ava hadn’t used that tone with her in… weeks. It had felt like a paradigm shit ever since that night at the party. Hands in eachothers hair. Light touches. Declarations of friendship.

This wasn’t a welcome reversion.

“Chill out, Ava,” Sara rebutted, frowning, “we know everything about this project. It’s basically our baby. Six hours is more than enough time to put that in silly PowerPoint. Plus, it’s just a presentation. It’s the final product they care about more, obviously.”

“It’s not that simple, Sara,” Ava fumed. Her head was running rampant, anxieties flowering like poppies. This was her dream on the line. How had she forgotten? It had always been about the end game. How had she let herself get so sidetracked? Of course―only now could she see clearly how _stupid_ she’d been. To think she was about to take a chance on someone like Sara. As if that feeling was worth staking her future on. She took a sharp breath in.

“I’m―I’m going to go into tower two and just―I don’t know―finish it. I can’t think in here,” Ava announced, massaging her temples. Sara, work, her future, everything―it was too much. She couldn’t think straight. She needed an easy out.

“Are you kidding?” Sara said, utterly confused, “this is my project, too, Ava. I need to at least contribute.”

“It needs to be _perfect_ , Sara.”

The words dropped out of her mouth before she could catch them. _Fuck_.

“Oh... I get it. Don’t need me around to mess shit up, huh?”

Ava opened her mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. Sara’s disappointed eyes drilled into her skull. She couldn’t deal with the hurt that she saw there. All she heard was the soundtrack of her thoughts beating like EDM in the back of her head: this always happens; this _always_ happens, fuck, why does this _always_ happen―

“I―I’m just. I’m just gonna go,” Ava stuttered, rushing out and leaving Sara in the dust. Gavin, true to form, only watched as she stormed off, perfect eyebrows raised. Ava didn’t care to know what he said to Sara afterwards.

  


For better and for worse, Ava has always had a one track mind. It had been good for running cross country, eyes pointed ever-forward, legs numb as she crossed the finish line. It had been good for finishing projects, for staying up late, for never losing motivation. It had been good for one-way conversations. It had been good for making hard choices. For being the bearer of difficult news.

It had not been good for weighing consequences. It had not been good for dealing in the grey. And, well―it made the future seem definite. Concrete. To Ava, there had only ever been one path to success. A great job. An escape. A way to financial freedom. Total independence.

Shit―that had just been _it_. Fucking simple and direct and hopefully, with enough effort and sacrifice, possible.

She had never accounted for the possibility of caring about something else more.

Sitting in tower two (the “zen floor,” as Aberration had obnoxiously coined it), surrounded by binders of self-help books and meditating coworkers, Ava stared at her screen and drew a complete blank. Coming off a shitstorm of an anxiety attack, she could do nothing but hover fingers over keys. Her mouse pointer rocked back and forth with the tiny tremors in her hands.

The truth was, this was nothing new. Ava had done this before. Shit, she’d done this with _Sara_ before. But it had never impacted her work. No, at the end of the day, she put things back on track, and _she got her job done_.

But here she was, shaking like nobody's fucking business. A whole ass mess in a ridiculously tiny room, sitting on a dumb two-hundred dollar seat cushion. All of a sudden, this didn’t feel like just any bridge to burn. This felt like a future being ripped from her, like totalling the family car, like your apartment burning down.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was typing.

 **Ava Sharpe:** shit ok so i really just fucked up. im so sorry, sara.

i know it’s not enough to say that.

 

 **Ava:** honestly i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to switch teams.

i’m a shitty partner and a shitty teammate

and i always do this because i’m a control freak.

you’re one of the smartest people i’ve ever met,

and i am never going to take that from you.

 

 **Ava** : i know we haven’t known each other long,

but i fucking care about you a lot, evidently.

so much that i can’t even work on this project.

like i genuinely don’t care if this presentation fails

because i care way more that you’re okay.

like im so fucking mad at myself.

 

 **Ava:** basically i’m sorry. let’s do this together, if you’ll have me.

Ava’s mouth dropped open―in horror and in relief―at everything that she had just typed. Even worse, that she had the audacity to hit _send_ on all of it. Ava hadn’t texted anything that long in her life. But _fuck_ , all she cared about was―

How she felt last night when Sara was in her arms. How she felt when Sara hugged her. Shit―and how she felt _when Sara kissed her cheek_. How she felt when Sara made her laugh. How she felt when they held hands running down the Pier together, like she’d never let go.

Two minutes passed, and Ava’s eyes bore holes into her phone screen.

Ava chewed on her nails, her ever-running conscience debating the possibility that Sara didn’t forgive her. That she _did_ just blow her off and switch teams. Well―Ava _could_ drown herself in her emotions and a bottle of whiskey, quit her internship, go home to Fresno, get a job as a waitress, work her way up in food service, manage a small pizza chain, die alone, and have her cat speak at her funeral. It wouldn’t be ideal, but―

Sara Lance (10 AM)

 **Sara Lance** : ok so yes, that was totally uncalled for,

and i will need a proper apology later BUT

 

 **Sara** : my career is also kind of riding on ur ass

 

 **Sara** : so can you just get yourself back in this cube so

we can make a powerpoint, show it to the big guys, and

then get drunk out of our minds and forget you ever

suggested that i was anything less than perfect?

 

 

 

Ava’s heart squeezed, something like happiness settling in her chest. She was smiling at her phone like an idiot in a room full of her coworkers, and she couldn’t care less.

She practically made to a beeline back to her desk. It was only when she arrived there that she realized that she’d, well―have to _deal_ with this. In person. Like, _apologize_ . She bit her lip, and knocked on the side of her cubicle. There wasn’t a door or anything, but, well. Shit felt awkward. And she _had_ made a scene.

“Alert the presses, Miss Perfect returns from her hour long sabbatical!”

Ava’s breath hitched, guilt settling like an anchor in her lower stomach. She should have known Sara wouldn’t let her off that easy.

“Oh my god, just get in here Ava, I’m _kidding_ ,” Sara laughed, her head peeking out from behind the wall. She offered Ava a half-smile, something vaguely forgiving. It was enough for Ava to step inside.

“I’m so sorry, Sar―” Ava began, settling back down in her chair. Sara turned to her, shaking her head as she took Ava’s hand. The contact stopped her in her tracks, her heart jumping as Sara’s thumb grazed over her palm.

“Hey,” Sara said softly, catching her eyes for a split second, “we’re good, alright?”

“No, Sara―we _so_ aren’t,” Ava frowned, “I fucked up. I―”

“Do you ever read what I text you?” Sara bit her lip, squeezing Ava’s hand tighter, “we’ll settle this later with some _very_ needed, definitely healthy bickering. But right now I need you to flip the switch back on robot Ava, because god help me I need her to get this shit done before 2.”

Ava inhaled, taking in Sara’s honest, tired eyes. All she could think about was the warm grasp on her wrist, how their knees were touching under the desk. She smiled the best she could, and Sara grinned back.

“Yes. Okay. Fine. Let’s present the hell out of this place.”

  
  


 

“So, you think we’re fired?” Sara smirked, shutting the door behind her. Ava rolled her eyes.

“Okay, well,” she stuttered, “no. Definitely not. That was―”

“Completely fine?” Sara raised an eyebrow.

“Completely fine,” Ava said, blowing out a relieved breath.

They locked eyes. Sara nodded her head towards the street, and outstretched her hand. Ava eyed it quizzically.

“Walk with me?”

Oh God. Ava’s heart fluttered. Sara smirked, wiggling her fingers. Ava took in a shallow breath and reached out, entwining their fingers. She heard Sara take in a breath.

“Where to?” Ava asked, biting her lip. Sara squeezed their hands and Ava tried not to faint. She was supposed to be _mad_. Ava didn’t deserve this kindness, of all things―

“You know, a spot.”

“Oh, a _spot_? How descriptive,” Ava laughed.

“Just you wait,” Sara winked, tugging at her hand and leading them down the sidewalk, “it’s closeby, actually.”

They walked for an easy fifteen minutes, the sun setting and the breeze flowing. Ava mostly just listened as Sara commentated aimlessly about the streets, cracking terrible jokes about the people that might live in the enormous mansions that dotted the Santa Monica coastline.

“Please do not tell me your _spot_ is a liquor store,” Ava said in disbelief as they turned a corner to a hole-in-the-wall convenience store. Sara just laughed, pulling her ID out of her wallet.

“So what if it is? You judging, Aves?” she grinned.

“Yes. Definitely.”

“A shame,” Sara said, dropping Ava’s hand to push the door open, “gimme five. Don’t worry, it’s only a pit stop.”

Ava shook her head and sighed. But she waited. Of course, she waited.

After a few minutes, Sara came out carrying a plastic bag. Ava eyed it, momentarily annoyed that it seemed to occupy both of Sara’s hands. Christ, here she was, jealous of a plastic bag from the local bodega.

Here she was.

“You ready?” Sara said.

“As ever,” Ava laughed.

  


 

 

“Wow.”

Yeah. So “ _spot”_ was a massive understatement. This was a fucking _scene_.

“What’dya think?” Sara grinned, dropping her bag to the ground and gesturing to the world around them. Ava marveled at the endless ocean that engulfed their tiny strip of beach, surrounded on all sides by mile-long rows of boulders. In a sea of sound and light, this area of the Pier somehow escaped the Santa Monica bustle. It wasn’t silent, but it was certainly as serene as the Pacific could be. And shit, with the sun setting over the horizon, it was goddamn _beautiful_.

“Sit with me?” Sara grinned, gesturing to the sand like it was some sort of red carpet.

“I should have changed first,” Ava frowned, prematurely mourning her perfectly ironed pant-legs.

“Are you really complaining right now?” Sara raised an eyebrow. Ava felt a pang of guilt hit her again. Shit. God should fucking deck her, she was so dense.

“N―no. I’m not,” Ava shook her head, plopping herself in the sand. She grimaced as she watched the flurries of sand cover her, “it’s _fine_ . Everything can be _washed_. I guess.”

Sara grinned and sat down beside her, barely leaving any personal space between them. Ava gulped as she took her in, the low light highlighting her cheekbones, her hips, her dumb toes as they wiggled in the sand. God―she was bursting. Ava’s heart was so heavy with want that it almost outweighed the guilt.

“Wanna know something?” Sara whispered, looking at Ava with a shared intensity.

“Why not?”

“You look even prettier by the ocean,” Sara admitted, biting her lip and brushing her hand over Ava’s again, squeezing it with the lightness of a feather.

“S―stop it,” Ava choked, “that doesn’t even make _sense_.”

“I know. It’s like magic,” Sara smiled.

“Shut up,” Ava shook her head, cheeks brimming with heat, “all I’m hearing is that you think I look good covered in sand.”

“You could manage to look good covered in goo, Ava, so it’s not much of a distinction,” Sara shrugged, looking at Ava with that same, unapologetic affection. It made Ava feel a million things, but mostly entirely unworthy.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I was an irredeemable _jerk_ a few hours ago, and you’re repaying me with compliments? If this is torture, it’s working,” Ava frowned, retracting her hand from Sara’s. She couldn’t take it―feeling so wanted and so undeserving.

Sara groaned, shaking her head.

“Ava, honestly―a few weeks ago, I would have switched teams,” Sara admitted.

Ava’s stomach fell, but still―“I wouldn’t have blamed you. I still wouldn’t blame you.”

“No, Ava, look―” Sara cut her off again, facing Ava head-on, “a few weeks ago, yes. You were a fucking jerk. And ok, so you got pissed today and you said some regrettable things, whatever! But shit, Ava, I _don’t care_. You know why? Because you’ve been so ridiculously kind and sweet and amazing to me for the past three weeks. I can’t even believe you would think―look, some dumb little outburst triggered by the crazy stress of our literally insane work environment can’t compare. It’s not even close.”

Sara took Ava’s hand in hers again, held it in a death-grip. Ava shuttered.

“Sara, I―” Ava trembled. She didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt newly overwhelmed. It was like this morning, but so much worse, so much more _real_. She hadn’t felt something like this in―

“Ava?” Sara questioned, tilting her head in concern, “shit, are you okay?”

 _No_. Ava inhaled sharply.

“The thought of losing you made me so―” Ava stuttered, her hands trembling, “Sara, I’ve never gotten like this before. I didn’t―I still don’t―I couldn’t even care about the project. All I could think about was _you_.”

“Ava…”

“You don’t have to feel that, it’s not―it’s okay,” Ava shuttered, diverting her gaze, “but I need you to know, okay? I need you to know how much I care about you. Because I care so much it’s fucking _terrifying_. I―I―don’t know what I would do at this point if we stopped being friends.”

Ava jolted as she felt Sara’s hand on her cheek, pulling her eyes towards her. Ava’s heart nearly fell out of her chest at what she saw―Sara smile, so endlessly tender, how it reached her eyes and how they crinkled in the most earnest way, Ava could drop dead.

“Ava, I need to tell you something, too,” Sara said, voice hollow. Ava’s eyebrows knitted.

“Yeah?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”

Ava’s heartbeat nearly short circuited. She suddenly felt Sara’s touch everywhere, all the little nudges, the way Sara’s hand curled around hers. Did she mean―

“Oh,” Ava swallowed.

“Yeah,” Sara stuttered, breathing out the words like they weighed a million pounds.

Sara bit her lip and let go of Ava’s hand, trailing it through the sand, suddenly docile.

Sara continued, “I think about you like, um, all the time. Like too much.”

“Yeah?” Ava uttered, with nothing else to say.

“Yeah,” Sara said, with nothing left to admit.

“What are you… thinking about?”

Sara’s eyebrows lifted just the tiniest bit, surprise evident. Her eyes dragged along the sand and finally found Ava’s again, searching. Always searching.

“A lot of things. Friendship. Other stuff,” Sara teased, but in a way that wasn’t really teasing. It was honest. It was scared. Ava needed to hear more of it.

“Me too,” Ava breathed out, nudging their knees further together. Sara shifted at the contact, falling into it.

“About friendship?”

“And other stuff,” Ava corrected.

Sara paused, mouth falling open and then closing again.

“I think a lot about the other stuff,” Sara admitted, finally. Ava couldn’t help but smile, just a little.

“Like how we’re coworkers?”

Sara snorted, “no, not exactly. Although that does come up. In my thoughts.”

“You’re being very vague, Sara,” Ava smirked. _Always toeing the line… Always coming so close to crossing it…_

“It’s kind of my thing.”

“Being vague?”

“I prefer mysterious.”

It was Ava’s turn to laugh, but the air was still thick. Sara’s foot nudged against hers.

“What you _are_ is infuriating,” Ava said.

“But I think you like it, though.”

Ava breathed in. Sara’s eyes were always on her. They had a whole ocean in-front of them, and that gaze wore on her like the sun. She felt so warm.

“I guess I like to be challenged,” Ava shrugged.

“Me too,” Sara smirked. She shifted her hand so it was brushing Ava’s thigh. She didn’t move it.

A beat passed, and the ocean waves rolled. There was only so much you could toe a line, you know, before you tripped.

“Do you remember what I said to you at that party when I was drunk off my ass?” Sara said, interrupting the silence.

“Sure. You lied. Said you were glad we were partners,” Ava joked.

“Yeah, I did lie,” Sara shrugged, no sense of sarcasm in her tone. Ava’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh?” Ava squeaked, suddenly questioning everything―how Sara’s hand was draped over her thigh, how her legs were neatly bent over Ava’s knees, how she had looked at her with something that looked like longing.

“Yeah. You know what they say about office romance.”

Sara looked up from the sand, wearing an expression more vulnerable than Ava could comprehend. Ava’s mouth dropped open, dumbstruck, overwhelmed, overwhelmingly _happy_ ―

“You mean…” Ava’s mouth dragged over the words. Her eyes found Sara’s lips. Sara’s eyes were already on hers.

“I did say _other stuff_ ,” Sara joked, but the joke was dark. Her pupils were so full, her face so close. Ava felt her breath on her cheek. Ava’s stomach was on fire, she was alight.

“So you don’t regret it?” Ava whispered, hand nearly trembling as it cupped Sara’s cheek, “meeting me? All of this?”

“Shit, Ava,” Sara bit her lip, breath trembling, “the only thing I regret is that you haven’t _kissed me yet_.”

And there went the line, muddied by sand and mud and the crash of the ocean. Ava nearly ascended as Sara’s lips finally found hers, her hands cupping the back of her neck, their bodies collapsing into the sand.

The kiss was like a revelation: in the beginning it was all-consuming, electric and unexpected, a lightning bolt―but soon enough they settled into a soft rhythm; Sara’s fingertips dragged up Ava’s sides, sliding behind her back and up her shoulder blades. Ava sighed into the kiss, running her own hands through Sara’s hair, pulling affectionately.

“I have wanted―” Sara moaned softly, pressing her fingers into Ava’s stomach, grazing the skin there, “ _this_ ,” Sara punctuated, kissing Ava's bottom lip, pushing them further into the sand, “for _way too long._ ”

Ava laughed into the kiss, utterly beaming. The entire day had fallen into the background; all that existed was Sara’s lips, and Sara’s hands, all over her, and Sara’s voice, so vulnerable and perfect and _hot_ , and the weight in her stomach, and the way she _wanted_ Sara, needed nothing more, never wanted this to stop―

“We should probably―” Sara started, kissing Ava’s cheek, slowly, like a memory, “talk”, she pressed in again, and Ava whined against her, “about _this_.”

Ava was stepping on fire, but the coals didn’t burn. She shushed Sara with another kiss, she wasn’t ready yet―no, not yet―she just wanted this moment. Wanted it to be _theirs_.

Ava was slapped out of her thoughts by a wave rolling on to their backs, dousing them in freezing cold water.

“Oh my god,” Ava shrieked, sliding off Sara in shock. Sara nearly fell over in laughter.

“Damn, you’re _wet_ ,” Sara grinned, beaming like she just got away with murder.

Ava stared at her, mind at a blissful blank, and just… laughed.

This… this was going to be bad.

But right now―

“Actually, I’m freezing,” Ava bit back, smiling despite herself.

“Okay, grumpy, _come here then_.”

Sara enveloped her in her arms, and Ava sighed into her shoulder.

―right now it was perfect.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOO....... thoughts? LMAO


	9. that 4AM feeling (part II)

Ava was adopted at age five from foster care. She doesn’t remember much about her life before then, but she remembered the beach. She lived by the sand. The waves. The _crush_ as water hit the coastline, rough, sloppy, painful and disfiguring. Grains of yellow dust everywhere, in between her toes, under her fingernails. The discomfort as she stomped around on sizzling pebbles, red-hot pain running up her ankles and cutting into skin. 

The beach, for Ava, had always meant a lot more than picturesque waves and Instagram captions. No one had ever taught her how to swim. No one had watched as she got caught up in seaweed. She didn’t remember much from back then, but it’s what she did remember that forever sits in her back pocket. Memories that can’t be scrubbed away.

But then, without warning, Sara:

Sara, who _insisted_ that she would teach her the backstroke. Sara who broke down the doggy paddle into some sort of comedy routine. Sara who lended Ava a bathing suit when she didn’t own one. Sara who plucked the seaweed from her hair, whose sandy legs felt like heaven, whose smile was brighter than the reflection in Ava’s sunglasses. 

Sara, who she had kissed as the waves crashed on her toes, ran sand up her legs and her arms. Sara who cared what happened to her. Sara who was her _friend_ . Her _best fucking friend_. 

Sara, who was still here, four hours later, in her bed. In _their_ bed. In _their_ room. 

Sara, who was beside her now, hair tousled and with saltine crumbs in her teeth. Sara who tasted salty like the sea, whose personality was as prickly as pebbles, whose adoration was cutting Ava right to the bone. _Sara_ , who had her hand in Ava’s lap at 1AM, playing with her fingers, just _staring_. Like Ava hung the goddamn stars.

“Stop it,” Ava said, biting her lip. 

“Stop what?” Sara smiled, mischievous. She intertwined their fingers.

“You know.”

“I don’t. You know I can be really dense.”

“Sara...” Ava whined. Sara laughed, and pressed her forehead to Ava’s. Ava’s heart ached. Sara’s eyes looked so blue, and earnest, and open. She had never seen the other girl so unguarded. 

“You like me,” Sara grinned, like it was breaking news.

“Oh?” 

“Uh huh.”

“Shit, I do?” 

“You _really_ do,” Sara said, feigning surprise, “like, more than you like… computers.”

“Oh, so now you want to push it?” Ava smirked. She felt Sara run a hand up her thigh. The sensation was so foreign, she almost shuttered away. Everything about this was setting Ava aflame. Sara had _kissed_ her. They were like, this was like―

“You like me more than a six figure salary.”

Ava laughed, really fucking laughed. Sara grinned.

“Ok, _whoa_ there,” Ava said, “a girl’s gotta eat.”

“Eat? Who cares about that when you have _me_. You like me more than financial stability, Ava,” Sara teased further.

“Shut up, Sara,” Ava pushed her lightly on the chest, “I can like you _and_ financial stability.”

“Careful, those things don’t typically go together,” Sara bit her lip, and Ava squinted at it. The playful banter had seemingly died on her lips. Ava’s smile dropped. Sara had been joking, but she had also been genuinely asking, genuinely questioning, wondering aloud―

When Ava had gotten this internship, the first thing she thought was _an out_. Escape meant a lot to most people, but to Ava, it meant ascension. Pushing away chains, unlocking a life that she genuinely wanted, with people she had chosen. For a long time, that had meant a steady job. A good job, great even. Everything else would come later, after, someday.

Happiness was one of those things, feeble as it was. Happiness didn’t break chains, it placated them. 

But, then, suddenly, Sara:

Sara who had tugged her back into the apartment, hands in her hair and laughing softly in her ear. Sara who held her hand like it was magnetic. Sara who believed in her, who did more than that, who _knew_ she was meant for something. Sara who, without so much as trying, became her new north star. 

“Sara,” Ava said gravely, taking Sara’s hand into hers, “I’m not going anywhere. _Job or no job._ ”

As the words vacated Ava’s lips, she realized, alarmingly, that she believed them.

“I’m messy,” Sara inhaled, bright blue eyes like two waning moons, “I’m really good at fucking things up. Exceptionally well-versed, actually. And don’t even get started with my Daddy issues, or Mommy issues, or, fuck, _sister issues…’_

“Sara, I’m... adopted,” Ava confessed suddenly, voice shaky, “I was in foster care for five years. My adoptive parents don’t know I’m gay. They’d probably freak if they found out.”

Sara’s mouth dropped, and she raised her hand to cover it.

“Oh, fuck, Ava. Fuck…”

“I’m not looking for pity points,” Ava laughed lowly, catching Sara’s hand, “I’m just saying… I know what that looks like. I’m the reigning queen of irrational childhood bullshit. I’m not scared. _Nothing_ could scare me away from you, Sara.”

Sara nodded, slowly, a peaceful sort of recognition sitting behind her eyes. She fell slowly into Ava’s torso, curling into her chest and enveloping her in her arms. Ava’s heart jumped, and she quickly tugged Sara closer, holding her like Atlas held the world.

“Shit. Wow. I think you might be my favorite person, Ava,” Sara laughed into Ava’s shirt, breath heavy.

Ava’s heart spiraled out. _Her favorite person_. 

Ava smiled sadly, exasperatedly, overwhelmed; she blew out a long, shattered breath―

“Good fucking thing, because you’re already mine.”

They sat there for a long, long time. Long enough for Ava’s eyes to blur, for her heartbeat to settle. Sara stayed enwrapped in Ava, arms and legs conjoined underneath covers. At 2 AM, Sara finally broke the gentle silence.

“So, do you kiss a lot of your friends like that?”

Ava balked, her cheeks running red.

“...No,” she choked out a breath, refusing to look down to meet Sara’s eyes, “not frequently.”

“Oh,” Sara said, like that was all she needed to hear. Ava’s mind was melting. God, she liked this indecipherable, unreadable woman so much it was going to kill her. 

“Do you?” Ava whispered, cheeks still burning. She felt Sara wiggle beneath her, head tilting up to find Ava’s eyes. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” Sara replied with a laugh, and Ava’s heart dropped, “on the cheek, or the forehead, you know…” 

Ava groaned, and knocked Sara playfully on the tip of her forehead. 

“I was about to say…”

“I know, I know, my reputation precedes me,” Sara laughed.

Ava’s face burned, “ _not_ what I meant, Sara…”

Sara paused, and licked her lips.

“I know. And no, to answer your question. I don’t kiss my friends _like that_.”

Ava’s whole soul felt exposed as Sara’s hand fit around her face, cupping her cheek. There was a seriousness there, a wordless communication that Ava wanted so badly to understand, to take in full and hold forever. She wanted so badly to believe her. 

“Even back at school…”

Sara shook her head, coming up to meet Ava face to face. 

“Being able to introduce you as my girlfriend would be the coolest fucking thing I think I would ever get to do.” 

And there was the word, far off as the clouds and suddenly crashing down into Ava’s lap. Sara wanted to be her―wanted to _introduce her_ as―fuck, fuck, fuck…

“Too much?” Sara bit her lip, shy and scared and wholly too much for Ava to handle.

“No,” Ava whimpered, her voice lost to the skies. She stared and stared and _stared_ at the girl in her lap, and suddenly she was filled with overwhelming want, a protective, godly, holy need to make sure she didn’t lose her grasp on this fledgling feeling in her chest. She had crushes, but shit―

_As my girlfriend_ ….

“You don’t have to say anything yet, Aves,” Sara said sweetly, slowly pressing a kiss to Ava’s cheek―and all Ava could think is _yes, yes, yes,_ and _nobody else, nobody else, nobody else_.

Ava sighed into Sara’s chest, inhaling that familiar scent. It felt like safety, and home, and it felt _terrifying_. 

“No, I just―” Ava let words bubble up from her, jumbled and directionless. She couldn’t seem to translate the thumping in her chest, the tug in her bones, the irrefutable adoration holding her down to earth. The thing was, she had always silently wished for this; it had always been the thought before birthday candles, or at 11:11 in the morning and in the night. She wanted this, but then it was suddenly… here. 

And it looked like, well, Sara:

Sara who said, with the most heart-wrenching kiss to Ava’s neck, two things:

“God, you’re so beautiful,” with a laugh, and,

“I’m not going anywhere, either, Ava. So… take your time, okay?”

And Ava just nodded, and hated herself and hated herself and hated herself, but all of that was overshadowed by something more powerful, an unearthly force that was springing from her veins. Something even more indescribable, even more foreign…

Sara yawned, interrupting Ava’s spiral. Ava suddenly realized how tired she was, her eyes sagging and her mouth dry. 

“I don’t wanna sleep yet…” Sara whined, hearing Ava’s thoughts. Ava shook her head.

“Me neither…” Ava sighed, and pushed a rogue hair behind Sara’s ear, “but the longer I stay up, the more incoherent I’m going to start sounding.”

“You’re more coherent at 2AM than I am at _work_ , babe,” Sara laughed, the pet name falling off her lips like it was easy, like it had always been commonplace. Ava got goosebumps, her nerves jolting like she was running across a highway. She was only turning deeper shades of red at Sara’s every word, her heart melting, words dying in her throat. For fuck’s sake, here she was, completely unable to speak. _Now_ , of all fucking times, and Sara had said she wanted to be her _girl_ …. Her, _fuck,_ her... Her _girlf_ ―

Sara must have seen the subtle change behind Ava’s eyes, because she just smiled and shook her head.

“If you can’t tell, I’m shit at taking things slow,” Sara laughed, clearly embarrassed, “let’s just go to bed so I can stop embarrassing myself enough to have you running for the fucking hills…”

“I would never, fuck, I’m sorry―” Ava gulped, drowning in her own self-defeating thoughts. Sara put it to a stop by pulling Ava in closer, wrapping her hands behind her back. 

“I have an idea,” Sara said, running a finger softly over Ava’s bottom lip. Ava’s thoughts silenced themselves as her every fiber tracked Sara’s movements, muscles tensing as Sara straddled her lap, “we’re _both_ going to shut the fuck up for a bit, because funny enough, there’s something a little more pressing that we could be doing…”

Sara’s lips fell messily, gorgeously, heavenly over hers, and Ava thought one last, simple thought, sitting somewhere idly in the back of her mind:

She was in love.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this was so short compared to usual, but i really wanted to get something out to yall since ive been taking so long... don't worry, i love this fic and it is very much alive!


	10. together at last

The Hollywood Hills are an oxymoron of a location. All at once obsessed with decadence, status, and symbol, and yet simultaneously trite, a tourist trap of a neighborhood, a passing-through place for the visitor to politely gawk at as they ride up towards the Hollywood sign. Sara had always liked it. She thought it was dumbly, profoundly American. 

“Open your eyes next time, Jesus!” Sara yelled from the car window, swerving dramatically as a truck darted out from a blind driveway. Profoundly American, indeed. The roads were the width of a pencil, and curved around dramatically every few feet. It was a disaster of urban planning, and, apparently, Ava found it amusing.

“Totally your fault,” Ava laughed, eyes creased with genuine enjoyment. Sara huffed.

“Not even a little. Also, aren’t you supposed to be the obsessively careful one?”

“Not today,” Ava said, a small, simple smile inching up her face, “I’m… too distracted, I guess.” 

Sara inhaled, and bit her lip. She grabbed Ava’s hand from her lap, and held it, and held it, and held it.

This was their first date.

Yesterday had been their first kiss.

And last night Ava had realized…

Well.

“So like, not to be the worst,” Sara drawled, squeezing Ava’s hand softly, “but can I ask you something kinda… personal?”

“ _Personal?_ Who do you think you are?”

Sara rolled her eyes, darting an affectionate death glare in Ava’s direction. Ava giggled.

“Yes, Sara. You can ask me whatever you want,” she said softly, reassuring Sara as she stroked her thumb over Sara’s palm, “except how I like my eggs. You don’t want to ruin the rest of this day.”

“Oh my god, now I have to know how you like your eggs.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“ _Ava_.”

“ _Jesus_ , just ask your question, please,” Ava laughed. 

Sara stiffened in her seat, and Ava could feel her hand tremble ever slightly under her own. It was adorable, and scary. Adorably scary.

“Is there a reason you didn’t tell me before about you, being, uh, adopted?”

Ava laughed, eyes crinkled. Their rented buggy trembled further up the hill. 

“Honestly?”

“Of course,” Sara scoffed, “like you could ever lie.”

Ava rolled her eyes.

“Of course I could lie.”

“You could,” Sara said, squeezing their hands with overwhelming affection, “but not to me.”

Ava let out a breath. She was fucking right, but she didn’t have to go ahead and _say_ it.

“I just… I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I mean, it’s not really big news for me anymore. But it’s kind of news to everyone else. It’s like coming out, you know? It’s just… difficult. Family is difficult.”

Sara smiled, tender and sympathetic, “It sure as hell is.”

 

....

Ava had never been to a planetarium. The dome was magnificent. The little planets looked so real, stars inking the pixelated sky. She had always felt like her and Sara shared their own little world, but now she just felt so small, so insignificant―

Sara’s breath hit the nape of her neck, warm and affectionate:

“Let’s move to the moon.”

Ava giggled in the silent theater.

“Why the moon?” Ava whispered, lips slinking into a smile, “I’m more partial to Mars. Or maybe Saturn. Those _rings_.”

“Let’s face the truth, Ava,” Sara started dramatically, lip bitten, eyes stuck to Ava’s own, “It’d be the moon, cause I’d be the one in charge of the spaceship.”

“Bullshit.”

“I mean, I _am_ in charge of Gideon….”

Ava laughed again, earning her a glare from an elderly couple to their right. Sara sent her a look that said _good job._

“Good to know you’re delusional. Like actually crazy,” Ava returned.

“Crazy about you.”

Fuck―and how could she have already forgotten? The moon rose and fell right above Sara’s face, its light shining like the sun itself over those shameless lips, that delicate nose, those unwieldy eyebrows. Ava wanted nothing more than to cup her cheeks there and then, close their lips to the soundtrack to the twelve dollar celestial spectacle. 

Ava’s face probably let on as much. To Sara’s credit, she just stared, and waited. And if Ava hadn’t fallen for her before, she did then. She knew that Sara would wait for her until the Earth stopped spinning―patiently? No, of course not―but impatiently, ungracefully, she would wait forever and then some, adoring Ava all the same.

“How about we copilot?” Ava suggested.

Sara grinned, and let her hand fall into Ava’s lap, intertwining their fingers. The heat of Sara’s hands against hers gave Ava chills.

“I’ll consider it.”

“It wasn’t a question,” Ava clarified in a whisper.

“Right,” it was Sara’s turn to giggle, “then I accept your terms, Ava Sharpe.”

Ava squeezed their hands. She was almost ready. She was almost ready. Sara made her feel invincible. 

  
  
....

Gideon was almost ready for deployment. The back end was done, the front end was decently pleasing to the eye, and the user experience tests had come back positive. Ava and Sara had spent the last few weeks slaving away at it, only mildly distracted by what might be considered a budding romance. Of course, they definitely hadn’t held hands under their desks while they worked, or knocked at each others knees, or even, when all of that contact wasn’t enough, nudged elbows. And they _definitely_ hadn't snuck off to the bathroom to uh, um… well―

“ _Sara_ , this is so, so not appropriate, on _any_ level,” Ava groaned noncommittally, letting Sara drag her into the first stall they could find. She bit down on her lip as Sara dragged her fingers down her shirt, playfully teasing at the fabric. 

“Should I stop, though?”

Ava inhaled, ready to say _yes, probably_ , but then Sara had her hands around her hips, and she was leaning in so close, and their stomachs were flush, with Sara’s mouth was searing a euphoric mark on the side of her neck, so, fuck, you can’t blame her―

“God, _no fucking way_ ,” she said, a harsh whisper, and blisfully closed her eyes. 

 

 

....

 

Then there was the presentation. The final presentation. 

The Aberration Executives’ Chamber was about as flashy as you’d expect: dark gray walls, tinted windows, about a dozen bonsai trees.  Ava was dressed in her usual ensemble plus a pair of high pumps that Sara had gifted her the week before. They were light blue, almost pastel, and Ava had fallen in love with them immediately.

She probably would have loved anything Sara gave her, to be fair. (God, how gross the thought.)

Naturally, Ava had arrived early to set everything up. Sara joined her ten minutes later, and Ava couldn’t help but beam when she saw Sara’s matching outfit: a (surprisingly) professional and intensely striking pastel pink pantsuit, with light blue earrings the same color as Ava’s shoes. Ava’s mouth dropped, and Sara just winked, running a hand up the small of Ava’s back. The way she made her feel was so effortless; it was the subtlety of the care in every small detail, from the way she looked at her so tenderly, to the two orbs hanging from her ears. 

“You ready?” Sara asked, gesturing to the laptop. Ava knew she was talking about Gideon, about presenting, about the way that Ava’s body tensed when she was stressed, the way she held her frustration in her shoulders, in her neck, in her hands. But Ava felt the question in an entirely different way, her lungs barely ready for the amount of air they would need to answer it. 

“I think so,” she breathed out, and leaned into Sara’s shoulder. Sara’s hand caressed her back, and in small motions, skin against skin, told her that everything was going to be alright.

  
....

Their goodbye to Gavin was weird, which is what Ava expected. Their introduction had been weird, their work relationship had been weird, so naturally, fittingly, their eventual departure was elaborately strange. And of course, it included Gary.

“I’ll miss you, Ava,” Gary said, all but whimpering. Ava shared a knowing look with Sara, and Sara wiggled an eyebrow, as if to say _now’s your chance, cougar_. Because of course she did.  

“Right,” Ava said, laughing awkwardly, “you too.” She wasn’t sure if she meant it, but strangely, she probably did.

Gavin clapped a hand down on Gary’s shoulder, and smiled. He was wearing his favorite tie, dotted with a pattern of giraffes and zebras. He was as vibrant as ever, and in a wonderfully good mood. The success of their presentation had obviously pleased him, but he hadn’t said anything yet, except a quick “Good job, go feed yourself,” before pointing them in the direction of the executive snack bar. 

“So, girls. Disciples. My dashing duo. My superstars.”

Ava watched as Sara turned the shade of an apple trying to contain her laughter. Ava couldn’t blame her. She bit her lip in turn, straightening her posture and shoving her hands in her pockets. She couldn’t risk messing up this delicate moment, couldn’t risk the outcome of the words, no matter how stupid the messenger.

“You did amazingly. You are both amazing. Spectacular. God, I’m getting emotional. Wow,” Gavin breathed out heavily, dabbing below his eyes with a handkerchief that he had made Gary carry just for this occasion, “so let’s cut past the bullshit―let’s talk about your offers.”

Sara and Ava paused, finding each other’s eyes. And God, _fuck_ , Ava nearly fell over in realization. Her heart was beating out of her chest, but it had nothing to do with what Gavin was about to say. It didn’t matter. Because what she saw in Sara’s eyes was a solemn _yes_ , like a grand answer to a question Ava didn’t even know she had been asking. They said _yes_ , no matter what, _of course_ , _I’m here_ . _I’m not going anywhere_.

“I want to hire you both, full-time, as developers.”

She inhaled sharply, the statement and its ramifications rattling around her head. This is what she had always wanted. This was the plan, the goal, the ultimatum.

Ava waited for a great weight to lift off her shoulders, but, oddly, nothing did. She felt the same.

The weight, in these many months, in those small moments on her bed, or by the ocean, or in the sand ― it had already lifted. In small, delicate movements, Sara had chipped it all away. 

  
....

Ava blinked and suddenly it was over. It was funny how easily time slipped away when you stopped holding on to it so tightly; without as much as a moment’s remorse, Ava had stopped being the person who checked her watch every five minutes, had stopped wondering _when when when_ her next opportunity would come. Without even trying, she had changed. And suddenly she was here, at the precipice of a completely reinvented persona. 

But mostly, she was at the airport. 

They were sitting just far enough away from the airplane’s queue that they had retained some semblance of privacy, their fingers intertwined and eyes trained on the panoramic window. Ava watched as the base traffic controller waved around those two pink sticks, signaling for the plane to approach. She laughed, remarking that it was like cheer leading for airplanes. Sara agreed with a smile and throaty laugh, nuzzling into Ava's neck. The skin there felt instantly hot, the sensation old and new all at once. Suddenly all Ava could see in the window was their reflection, and she wondered hopelessly how she got here: Sara's hair falling over her shoulder, their fingers held together so tightly they were basically melded, Ava's heart still beating like at any moment, this might all just stop. 

She thinks it was that fear that made those words bubble up, fast and accidental but wholly meant: 

"I think I might be in love with you," Ava said in a whisper that wasn't really a whisper. The words were too big to be said lightly, too intensely felt to be mumbled.

Her worst fears fell heavy on her chest when Sara didn't move, didn't speak. She sat there, solemn, and Ava just stared into the window, her eyes stuck. Five seconds she spent evaluating what would happen next when they boarded that airplane. How they'd sit together in silence all the way back to Maryland, how they wouldn't speak at school, how Sara would break her heart and Ava would let her. She saw them returning to Aberration that next summer and working side by side but overwhelming faraway, unspoken tension painting their every causal interaction, every code review. 

"Ava," Sara said then, turning to look at Ava head on. She licked her lips, long and slow, and Ava just waited; she nodded, it was her turn to wait. 

"Yes?" 

Sara brought her fingers to Ava's cheek, holding her face with both delicacy and certainty. There was a finality to the look in those pearly blues, and Ava could do nothing but to bend to them, to play servant to all of Sara's touches, for as long as she'd have them.   
  
"Will you be my girlfriend, Ava?" Sara said, finally, and Ava noticed then the damp skin under Sara's eyes. God. Fuck. She'd been so dumb. 

"Fuck," Ava inhaled, embarrassed, "I completely... we're not really doing any of this in the right order, are we?"

"No, we're not," Sara nodded with a wet, sweet smile, cheeks dotted with a string of unabashed tears, "that's why I'm trying to adjust it. You know, for continuity's sake."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. So will you answer my dumb question so I can answer yours?" Sara said, in a desperate exhale that made Ava's heart fall out of her chest, roll all the way back to Maryland.

"Fuck ― Of course I will, Sara," Ava said, speaking the words like they couldn't come fast enough, "for as long as you'll have me, God yes."

Sara's smile nearly broke her face, and she leaned in, pressing her lips warm, steady, wet to Ava's. Ava couldn't describe the experience in words, really, how the next moment made her feel ―

"I love you too, jerk," Sara mumbled against her lips ―

and fuck ―

for once, for the first time, she believed her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this took so long, have been SO so busy but knew i had to deliver an ending for my beloved dumb duo. i hope this meets your expectations! id be happy to do an epilogue if you all would like that.


End file.
